


Surrender Love

by Noctis_13



Series: Tired but Trying [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: AU, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne-centric, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, ETHNIC ROBINS FTW, Finals what finals?, Fuck Canon, Gen, I made this during class, I only had 15 minutes of sleep save me, I smell cap DC, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake/Coffee - Freeform, Timmy needs help, alternative universe, fuck it, help my bois please, no beta we die like jason todd, no beta we die like men, no beta we die like robins, why can’t dc make more moments of tim and dami
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 20,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noctis_13/pseuds/Noctis_13
Summary: Damian just wants Tim to be okay.
Series: Tired but Trying [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1465066
Comments: 300
Kudos: 808





	1. Ikea Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN SHIT  
> And I just want to say thank you for all the love and support!  
> Music: Honest - NBHD and You Get Me So High - NBHD
> 
> Thanks again for everything! I love you guys so much! 🥺🖤

Tim didn't think it would last. No, really, he **didn't**. This whole Damian-suddenly-being-nice thing, it wasn't supposed to last this long. 

When Tim texted Kon and Bart about this, they agreed that something must have been up. Bart kept spam texting Tim about it since. 

_Don'tletthedemonbratgettoyouTim_. 

_Staysafebevigilantmydude_. 

_YorememberTimstayonguard_. 

_I'monlyonecallaway_. 

Kon took a more worrying route, not that Tim was surprised by it. 

**(The half-Kryptonian could deny it all he want, but he was a mother-hen**.)

_ Do you want to stay with me in the farm until this goes away?  _

_ Do you want me to fly by?  _

_ Tim? _

_ Are you okay?  _

_Tim_. 

Cassie, on the other hand, was blunt and more vocal about her opinion as always. 

_ Tim, are you stupid?  _

_ The devil brat is hanging around you for a reason.  _

_ God, for the so-called smartest Robin, you're kinda dumb.  _

_Men_.

Tim furrowed his brow in confusion at her texts. I mean seriously, his pride was hurt. He was smart, wasn't he? 

Tim didn't think it would last. He really didn't, and he was fully prepared for Damian to admit that this was all some sick joke. 

But then, Damian kept coming back. 

He always asked if Tim could pick him up from school instead of Alfred. The brat also accompanied Tim during patrol once or twice. Damian even asked for his help in **homework**. 

_ Homework.  _

What the hell was going on? 

He wasn't hallucinating, as Tim did not do drugs. Yes, people may have perceived him as a crackhead before, but that’s what happens when you're running on no sleep and four Red Bulls. 

For some odd reason, Damian was clutching onto him like a lifeline. And the scary part is that Tim was getting used to it. And dare he say, he liked it. The feel to be needed. To be wanted. 

Tim was a goner. He knows he shouldn't have let his guard down. He knows that there must have been an ulterior motive behind his little brother’s demeanor, but he couldn't help it. Damian is family. He’s family, and Tim has never really had one before. 

~~** (And who’s fault was that hm?).  ** ~~

So now, through some unforeseen circumstances, Damian will be living at his apartment for an indefinite amount of time. Somehow the little hellion has even managed to get him go Ikea shopping 

Ikea shopping. **Ikea**. 

Tim is having a crisis. He swears he isn't whipped. He isn't, but the moment Damian’s green eyes gazed at him, Tim couldn't help but agree. Fuck, he’s not whipped! He’s not....right?

Tim bites his lip while having a mental breakdown on aisle six. 

’ _Fuck man, he’s absolutely done for.’_

”Timothy! Red or green?” 

Tim turns back to stare at the items in Damian’s hands. 

_ ’Oh God, the little imp was choosing bedsheets now.’  _

Tim rubs his forehead, feeling an oncoming headache form. 

”Green, it matches your eyes.” 

The little Robin beams at him, making his heart flutter. 

Tim sighs, before depositing the bedsheets into the cart. He then stares ahead as Damian marches onward in front of him like an excited little infantryman. 

Tim decides to rip the metaphorical band-aid right away. The questions were eating at him. Tim has to know. 

He has to know if this was real or not. He has to know if one day, he’ll be waking up to find out that this was all a dream or some kind of revenge plot. 

Damian stands to the side of aisle nine, he was picking out dressers. 

Tim abandons the cart and taps Damian’s shoulder. 

”Yes?” 

”Damian.”

”Tim?”

The way Damian called him. He said, ”Tim” with such warmth. In a matter of speaking, he hasn't called Tim "Drake" or "Placeholder" for a while now. It shocks him, his hands begin to shake. He can't do this. He doesn't want to do this, but he has to. He needs to have some type of confirmation. He needs to. 

”Please tell me this is real. Because I swear if this is fake, I’ll actually fall apart.”

Damian looks straight at him with a heated gaze. 

”Timothy. I love you.” 

Tim’s hands clench at his sides. His teeth grind in nervousness. His heart leaps but he has to make sure. He needs to take precautions just in case. 

”Do you really? Are you sure? Damian, please be serious about this. Because I can't, if this is all just a game to you. Then please end it and just leave me alone.” 

Damian swallows a lump in his throat. It goes silent for a while. Tim can see Damian trying and failing to speak.

He tries again and this time his voice is back. 

”I’ve never been more sure about anything else in my life.”

Tim freezes. 

”Tim, you are my brother, and I regret that it took me too long to realize that.”

”Forgive me?”

Tim’s mind overloads, and the next thing he knows he is grabbing Damian and pulling him into his chest. 

”Oh baby brother, I’ve already have.”

Tim begins to laugh hysterically into Damian’s hair. 

”I've already have. And I’m so sorry. So sorry." 

” _Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry_.” 

His voice turns hoarse from the constant whispering, as he rocks both of them back and forth. 

He continues on for a few more minutes, but it feels like hours to him. 

Damian is the one who ends it. He grasps the back of his neck and forces him to look down at his eyes. 

”Tim. I love you.” 

Tim breaks and melts into his little brother's embrace. 

When Tim comes to he can feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He wipes his tear tracks quickly and steps away from Damian. 

”Sorry.” 

”Don’t be. I speculated it would happen sooner or later.” 

Tim lets out a small grin 

God, Tim just had an actual breakdown in an Ikea of all places. 

He really was fucked.

"So what else do I need, big brother?" Damian asks while Tim rolls the cart down the lane. 

"I don't know. The guest bedroom is pretty bare, so grab whatever you want." 

"Bare is an understatement. It just has a mattress and a bed frame. That's it." 

Tim chuckles and rubs the back of his head. 

"Sorry?" 

"Tt. You really are hopeless at interior designing." 

"I am not, you little imp!" 

"Hm." Damian tries to respond cooly, but he wasn't fooling anyone with how his lip was twitching. 

It's good to know Tim wasn't the only one whipped. 

Tim rolls the cart with one hand and seizes Damian’s hand with his other one. 

Damian squeezes their conjoined hands in reassurance and affection. 

Tim gives a genuine smile 

’ _God he loves this little brat'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everything and for reading my series! 🖤🥺


	2. Ikea Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more lighthearted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. 
> 
> Love you guys!!!

”TIMOTHY, LET ME GO! THAT HEATHEN! THAT WAS MINE!” Damian hisses while Tim tries to hold him back by the waist. 

”Dami-” 

”Don’t Dami me! That complete and utter **neanderthal** took the last cat-shaped pillow!”

”Technically, it wasn't even yours baby bro. You haven't paid for it, so it's free reign." 

"I. Do. Not. Care. About. Technicalities. Timothy. **I WILL RIOT.** "

Tim groans before shoving Damian into the Ikea cart. The young Robin blinks slowly, startled by being manhandled into a cart. 

"Timothy, I am not a child." 

Tim sighs at him. 

"Just stay there. Let me handle it, alright?" 

Damian huffs before nodding subduedly. 

"Excuse me, sir?" 

The man in the pillow aisle, aisle thirteen, glances at him in distaste. He wore a tweed jacket with corduroy pants, his face had a couple of wrinkles, and circular glasses rested on his nose. He had unruly brown hair and an eternal frown etched on. He looked like a physics professor on cocaine.

”What do you want?” 

Tim fights back a flinch and decides to shoot a relaxed grin at the man. 

”Sir, my brother really wants that pillow.”

”And?” The man growls at him. 

”Listen, he's just a kid, please just let him have it. Surely, you can find it in another Ikea?” 

”But I don’t want to go to another Ikea.” 

The man grumbles and glares at Damian who was watching it all from the shopping cart. 

”Little brat, doesn't know when to fucking quit."

Tim _tightens_ his jaw. 

"Sir-" 

"Boy, I will not say it again. This pillow is mine. It is a limited edition quality cat pillow that is hard to find and well-sought after. You'd have to kill me to get it." 

_'That could be arranged.'_ Tim thinks grimly. 

_ 'I could make it look like a mistake. No one would ever find out. Your body would be unidentifiable.'  _

Tim grips his hands together in anger. 

"Sir, I beg of you." 

"No." 

"He's a child." 

"Yes, but it's not like he's my child." 

Tim lets out a deep breath before turning around. From his peripheral vision, he can see the man smirk smugly at him. Tim sees red. 

Looking around, he notices that no one else was close by. So, there were no witnesses or security cameras, perfect.

Tim lashes out at the man and hits the pressure point in his neck. 

The cocaine addict falls like a sack of potatoes. 

Tim then reaches down and takes the pillow. He hands it to Damian and pushes the cart with him still inside, whistling all the while. 

”T-Tim?” 

”Yes, Dami?”

”Thank you.”

”Anytime.”

They finally reach the checkout, and Tim holds back a grin when he hears one of the employees scream out in shock about a ”hobo” sleeping on aisle thirteen. 

Tim could get used to this. 

They return to his apartment in record time, and Damian immediately sets up his bedroom. 

Earlier, they stopped by the mansion to gather some of Damian’s clothes and knickknacks. Fortunately, only Alfred was home, so it was a quick in and out. Bruce had been notified, but so far he hasn't answered back. Tim wasn't surprised, being left on read was the story of his whole fucking life. 

Damian said he got in a fight with Jason and Dick over him. Tim couldn't help, but feel honored. 

He was happy he knew where they stood now. 

”C’mon Dami, hurry up! I want to go eat some dinner before we patrol tonight!” 

”Hold on, Timothy! I need to make it orderly. I will not stay in a pigsty of a room, unlike you.” 

Tim bites his lip in amusement. 

He still can't believe his little brother came out of Ra’s lineage.

**Damian must have gotten all the good genes from the Al Ghul gene pool.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! ILY 🖤


	3. Kona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Christmas Day and Tim’s finally doing okay for once. He can only hope that it can stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!! 
> 
> Song I listened to: Weight of the World - Hurts

Tim drums his fingers alongside the car's dashboard. The teen was currently waiting for his little brother to get off school. 

The little rascal had to go back to the mansion sooner than both of them liked, but it was Bruce’s orders. Damian had to stay in the mansion during school nights, but during weekends Tim could have him. 

_’What is this joint custody?’_ Tim huffs in amusement. 

Shaking his head, Tim can't help but be reminded of Kon and Bart’s reactions to Damian, after he hesitantly confided in them. 

**(Cassie was currently off-world, but no doubt the duo will tell her about it once she comes back though).**

They were perturbed, to say the least. It’s not like they didn't believe Tim, it's just that..... _they didn't believe Tim._

He gets it really, Damian used to be an obnoxious boy, who had issues he didn't want to fix, issues that he displayed through a violent outlet. An outlet, named ”Tim”. 

Tim gets it. No, really he does. But Damian has changed, the little imp has grown right under his own nose. And if the demon brat had changed, why couldn't he?

So he’ll let his friends simmer in silence, and whenever they’ve reached a conclusion, only then will Tim allow them to see Damian. 

**(God knows, what would happen if they met now. WWIII would break out for sure).**

The bell rings and Tim couldn't help but sigh when he saw Damian beam at him from across the parking lot. 

The little beast makes his way to his car, looking posh while doing so. No matter how excited Dami was, he’d never live it down if he broke character in public. Tim could respect that. 

The gremlin crawls into the passenger seat with a small grin on his face. To others, Damian’s grins may look like condescending smirks, but Tim knew better. 

”Well aren't you enthusiastic today?” 

Damian flushes immediately in response. 

”Tt. I’m just a bit eager to finally finish gift shopping.” 

”At Gotham Mall?” Tim questions while keeping his eyes on the road ahead. 

**(It wouldn't do good to unleash road rage when Damian was in the car with him).**

”Well you’ve never accompanied me to the mall before so-” Damian cuts off the rest of his sentence with a huff. 

Tim chuckles at his adorable baby brother before ruffling the boy’s raven black hair. 

”I know Dami, I'm just joking.” 

”Hm.” 

From his peripheral vision, Tim can glimpse Damian’s pout. Tim bites his lips to stifle another need to laugh. 

”We’re here.” Tim whispers as he pulls into the mall’s parking lot. 

”I’m not blind, Timothy.” 

”I never said you were.” Tim answers with a mischevious smile. 

He finds an empty space and quickly parks. Then, while holding onto Damian’s hand, they make their way towards the front entrance. 

”So...what gifts do you still need to buy?” Tim states as he gazes at the stores around them. 

”I need father’s, Alfred’s, and yours.” 

Tim quirks one of his eyebrows up. 

”You’re going to buy my gift while I’m around?”

Damian turns red at his ears. 

”And, since when did you call Al, ’Alfred’ and not Pennyworth?” 

His little brother glares at him in embarrassment, and Tim replies by cooing at him. 

Damian turns away from him with a frown. 

”Hm. Let’s go Dami, you still need to buy your gifts after all.” 

Reluctantly this time, Damian clutches Tim’s hand as they walk around the mall. 

”Tim, can I shop around this section of the mall alone? I don't want you peeking at my gift selection.”

Tim scratches the nape of his neck, before answering. 

”Sure, but call me as soon as you’re done. And don't wander alright?” 

The little imp rolls his eyes at him before conceding with his rules. 

Tim watches Damian leave. 

  
_’How long has it been since I’ve celebrated Christmas with someone?’_

Tim thinks while sitting down on an empty table in the food court.

His father and mother only came home for Christmas a handful of times. And they didn't come home because of Tim, no, never because of Tim. They only came home during Christmas to work.

Tim's Christmas gifts consisted of money, money, and money. The only good thing that came out of getting cash every year as gifts, was that he was able to buy his own camera because of it. 

Tim cherished his camera until it gave up on him from overuse. Maybe, after Christmas, he could buy himself another one? 

_’Yes, maybe I will.’_ Tim decides while staring at the people passing by. 

  
Tim was in the kitchen of his apartment when Damian finally popped the big question. 

"You're coming, right? To the Christmas party?" 

The teen stares down at the cutting board before turning around to face Damian.

"If you want me to come then I will." 

  
"I don't just mean the gala, Timothy.” Dami whispers out. 

Tim smiles sadly at him. 

”I know.” 

Tim couldn't stop the resentment that boiled up into his chest after agreeing to go. 

_’You’re only staying for one night, Tim. Since when did you grow so pathetic? You used to love the manor.’_

~~**Keywords: Used to** ~~

  
Tim regrets his decision the second he walks into the mansion. 

The gala was easy compared to the hell the Wayne Mansion was. Galas were something Tim had been bred since birth to do. You just had to lie and pretend to elite socialites for a few hours, before escaping out of the back exit. 

The manor was in another league of its own, sadly. 

The dinner was brutal. It was even more awkward as Cass and Stephanie wouldn't stop staring at him the whole time. It was like they thought he would disappear or something, which wasn't all that uncalled for. Tim has been alienating himself for quite a while now. 

Jason and Dick were a mess to say lightly. They’d either question him passive-aggressively or stare down at their plates with a solemn look on their faces. 

And Bruce was as emotionally constipated as always, Tim gave him kudos for trying though.

Alfred and Damian were the only ones Tim felt safe around in the mansion. 

Cassandra would be counted too, but with Stephanie and her sticking so close together this evening, Tim just couldn't risk it. 

_’This is turning out to be the longest Christmas ever.’_

It was a tradition in the Wayne House to open their gifts at midnight. They didn't wait until they woke up in the morning, as more often than not they all had work to do. 

Midnight struck and Tim could hear some fireworks go off outside. Tim sat to the side of the tree and observed as everyone else opened their gifts. 

He got Alfred a cookbook, Dick some new escrima sticks, Jason a new pair of headphones, Cass a simple black diamond bracelet, Stephanie an Amethyst necklace, Bruce a Rolex, and Damian.....

Tim got him art supplies. 

”You got me a Maimeri Puro Oil Painting Set?” Damian chokes out while looking straight at him. 

Tim nods his head in response, ignoring the pink hue that began to adorn his face. 

”Did you expect me to give you a scarf instead?” 

  
”That’s what you got me last time.”

  
”Yeah, but it's different now. Isn't it?”

Damian swallows down a lump in his throat, before setting down his gift carefully onto the rug. He then crawls towards Tim and collapses onto his lap.

”What’s the big deal?” Jason questions, gazing at Damian’s shaking form in curiosity. 

”Tim got me a Maimeri Puro Vintage Set.” 

”And? Speak English, brat.” 

  
”Maimeri creates luxury art supplies. The set Timothy gave me costs about 5.5 grand.” 

  
”For art supplies?” Dick asks with a raise of a brow, obviously having been pulled into the conversation. 

  
”It’s called luxury for a reason.” Tim comments, patting the back of his little brother’s head all the while. 

  
”You’ve never gifted me something this expensive before. At least, _voluntarily_.” 

  
”Time changes people, Dami. For good or for worse.” 

Tim lets Damian hang onto him like a koala, as he opens his gifts. 

Before even opening one of his presents, Dami settles his chin on one of his shoulders, 

”You have to open mine last.” 

Tim grins down at him. 

”Okay.” 

Alfred gave him a big tin of his famous cookies, which Tim knew he would snack on later. 

Jason got him a new skateboard, Dick bought him a new video game, and Bruce got him a new Canon EOS Camera.

 **(Tim’s heart fluttered when he unwrapped that gift. He’ll thank Bruce privately later).**

  
Stephanie gifted him a pair of leather shoes while Cass gave him a pair of small tiny silver hoops.

  
”Hoops? Tim doesn't have piercings, Cass.” Stephanie states in bewilderment. 

  
”Yes, he does.” The teen answers matter-of-factly to the family’s utter confusion. 

  
”Thank you, Cass.” Tim responds quietly. 

  
He brushes his hair back revealing two small lobe piercings on his left ear.

He slowly inserts the hoops with a broad smile on his face. 

  
"Don't I look dashing, Damian?" Tim inquires jokingly. 

  
"Tt. You and dashing do not fit in the same sentence.” 

Tim rolls his eyes and chuckles, Damian hides his own grin by rubbing his face against Tim’s chest. 

”Since when did you get piercings, Tim?” Dick asks from his place on the couch. 

”I’ve had them since before Robin. I just never wear earrings. The only reason that they’re still open is because I miraculously remember to put on some type of stud once in a while.” 

  
”And you never told us?” Bruce asks awkwardly. 

  
_’World’s Greatest Detective everyone.’_

  
”You never asked.” 

Tim shrugs his shoulders at them. 

  
"And your parents allowed it?" Stephanie murmurs. 

  
"It's not like they were present long enough to say 'no'." 

  
The room grows silent at his response. 

  
"Listen, guys, I was thirteen and making stupidly rash decisions like all young teens do. I had no parental supervision either, so....things happened.” 

  
”You mean shit happened.” Jason crows from behind him. 

  
Tim grins weakly at him.

  
”How’d you get it then? You need an adult to be with you to get piercings when underage.” Bruce mutters softly. 

  
”This guy in my class did it for me. He stuck a needle under a fire-lit candle and next thing I knew, **BOOM!** I had piercings.” 

  
”That’s not exactly sanitary, Master Timothy.”

  
”Yeah. I was lucky it didn't get infected. However, a few months after I got the piercings, I started Robin training, so I decided to stop wearing them. I wasn't really itching to have the earrings catch on something, and leaving me to deal with a ripped ear."

Tim ends the conversation there.

_’This was supposed to be Christmas not twenty questions.’_

He looks towards his last gift in apprehension. 

It was Damian’s gift. 

Tim tears through the bright green wrapping paper and opens up the styrofoam box. Inside was a burlap sack. 

Damian smiles against his chest. 

”Is this....” 

Tim opens the sack with great caution and gasps when a small black and gray snakehead pops out. 

”It’s a baby Black Rat Snake.” Tim whispers in glee, as the snake tangles itself onto his wrist. 

”We can pick out his supplies later.” Dami mumbles from his spot. 

  
”How? I never saw this when you came back from the mall.” 

  
”I asked the worker to keep it for me until today. I just asked Alfred to pick it up this afternoon.” 

  
Tim feels his face grow hot from trying to hold his tears at bay. 

  
”It’s a male and is about thirteen inches long. What will you name it?” 

  
”I’ll name him Konan, after Royal Kona, the Hawaiian Coffee Company.” 

  
”Figures.” Jay snorts from the background. 

  
”Isn’t Conan the guy who created Sherlock Holmes?” Dick asks in amusement. 

  
”That too!” Tim answers, as his new pet snake crawls along his shoulder. 

  
The newly christened, Konan, decides to wrap loosely around his neck, probably finding comfort in Tim’s body heat, much like Damian. The snake hisses softly from below his ear.

Tim kisses Damian lightly on the forehead in thanks. 

  
”I love him.” 

  
”And, I love you.” Damian sighs into his shoulder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been so supportive and I love you guys so much for it. Thank you all for everything! 🥺🖤 This means the world to me.


	4. The Party's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Bruce have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN SHIZ
> 
> I listened to Eyes on Fire - Blue Foundation

Tim wakes up disoriented and confused. The clock beside him signaled that it was early morning. Looking outside, he could see that the sun had not even risen yet. 

Tim went downstairs after making sure Konan was safe. He would buy supplies for his pet snake later, but for now, he needed coffee. Konan could wait inside the kennel he borrowed from Damian for a little while longer. 

The teen marches down the stairs groggily, barely able to restrain a groan from coming out of his mouth. Tim was tired emotionally and physically, he never thought he’d get out of this family gathering alive. 

_’Spoke too soon.’_ He muses as he spots Bruce eating breakfast. 

Tim shuffles his way into the kitchen and grabs himself some black coffee. 

_ ’Just the way I like it, black like my soul.’  _

Tim sips a generous amount from his mug before sitting down across from Bruce.

”You’re up early.” Bruce states gruffly, no doubt he was tired from yesterday’s events. 

** (Not that Tim could blame him. He was dead tired too).  **

”So are you.” He counters while sipping on his coffee.

Bruce hums in response. 

Tim doesn't know how to proceed from there. He wanted to talk to Bruce, he wanted to thank him for the camera, for everything actually. Bruce gave him a home, a purpose, something to look forward to. Even if he wasn't welcomed anymore, Tim still had the memories. 

Memories that were happy yet painful. 

Tim chugs down his coffee again. Finishing the rest of it off as if he was taking a shot of whiskey. 

He’ll need more caffeine by the end of this conversation. 

Tim clears his throat, 

”Bruce? I just wanted to thank you for the camera. You didn't need to do that for me.” 

Bruce snaps his head up in attention. A frown begins to mar his face. 

”Did you not like it? You could exchange it if you'd like-” 

”No, I love it! It’s just unexpected is all.” 

He answers lamely. 

”Aren’t gifts supposed to be surprising, Tim?” 

Bruce questions as his brows furrow up in confusion. 

”I-” 

Tim cuts himself off in embarrassment. 

Once again, he doesn't know how to respond. 

Tim sneaks a glance at Bruce and flinches inwardly when he spots the rawness hidden in the man’s blue eyes. 

He feels his skin crawl, it felt like ants decided to make his body their new hive.

Tim swallows a lump in his throat before resuming, 

”I just wanted to say thank you. Your gift i-it means a lot to me.” 

Tim couldn't stop the word vomit even if he tried.

”Photography has always been one of my passions, and I've truly been thinking about getting into it again. I’ve sold photos before, I’ve even had some of them displayed in a couple of exhibits, but I never realized how much it meant to me and my stability until after my camera broke.  So— I just— thank you, Bruce. It means a lot to me." 

Tim bites his lip afterward, he was appalled at what he just said. 

_ 'God, I'm so weak.' _

Silence reigns the dining table, and Tim can't help but shrink into himself. 

Bruce coughs into the palm of his hand, 

"You're most certainly welcome, Tim. I bought the camera for you because I remember how ecstatic you were about the photos you secretly took of us before you became Robin." 

"Y-you remember that?" Tim asks weakly, flushing under Bruce's stare. 

"Of course, I try to remember things about all my Robins." Bruce answers sincerely, making Tim's heart ache in grief. 

Before Tim can answer back, Bruce's phone rings. 

Bruce sighs at his phone and quickly puts on his suit jacket. 

"Sorry, chum. Looks like I have to go, work is calling." 

Tim nods in understanding, he had to run the company once. He gets it. 

Bruce is halfway from stepping out the front door when he calls out, 

”And Tim? About the exhibits your photos have been displayed on, I want to see them one day.” 

Bruce leaves right after that. 

Tim is left alone in silence. 

_’Robins, huh? I don't think I'm considered as one anymore, Bruce.’_

The teen stares at his empty coffee cup with glazed eyes, before setting his head down onto the mahogany table. 

Tim doesn't even flinch when Alfred puts a blanket over his shoulders. 

He stays in that dream-like state until Damian finds him three hours later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I love you all! You guys are so supportive!! 🥺🖤


	5. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING
> 
> Fun fact: I rewrote this so many times, and I am still not satisfied. 
> 
> Song I listened to while making this: Apologize - OneRepublic

Timothy Jackson Drake is many things. He is Red Robin. He is a Drake. He is a legacy, a hero, a leader, and now, an older brother. 

On the other hand, Timothy Jackson Drake _was_ many things. He was a Robin. He was a little brother. He was a son. He was a Wayne. 

Timothy Drake was and always will be a hero though. He knows that for sure. 

He’ll continue fighting the good fight until the day he dies. 

Right now though, Tim regrets being Red Robin. Because if he was a civilian, he wouldn't have to be having lunch in his safe house with Dick and Jason. 

Fortunately, Damian will be eating lunch with them too. Unfortunately, Damian had school, so he would be coming in late.

It would just be the three of them for the next thirty minutes. 

_’If there is a God out there, please help me.’_ Tim thinks as he drinks another cup of coffee. 

Jason taps his fingers along the wooden table in boredom while Dick stares blankly at the wall in front of him. 

Tim would rather be locked into a cell with Joker than be alone with them. 

Hell, Tim would rather be anywhere else, but here. 

This was his apartment, his safe house, and his nest. The only place he felt relatively okay in, was now being intruded upon. 

A part of him whispered that he was being overdramatic. Tim told that voice to **shut the fuck up**.

”What do you guys want to order?” Tim finally speaks. 

Dick snaps up in attention before giving a grin that was a bit too wide. 

_ ’FakeFakeFakeFakeAllOfThisWasFake. TheyDon’tCareAboutMe.’  _

”How about some Chinese food, hm?” Dick offers. 

Jason nods his head in agreement, not verbally answering. 

Tim grabs his phone and calls the local Chinese restaurant’s number, but before he could even speak, Jason snatches it out of his hand and gives it to Dick. 

Dick exchanges a look with Jason before stepping out of the room. 

”Hey, I’d like to order some food-” Dick’s voice vanishes as he leaves the kitchen. 

Tim bites his lip in apprehension. 

“Wha-“

"Why are you ignoring us?" Jason asks bluntly, as he lifts his eyes off the table. 

Tim flinches in response. He breathes in a shaky breath before replying,

"What do you want me to say?" 

" **The truth**." 

Tim plays with the hem of his collar. 

"It hurts." 

"Excuse me?" 

“Looking at you, being with you, talking with you. It hurts. I trusted you. I trusted all of you.” 

”Tim-” Dick cries out, after re-entering the kitchen. 

”No, listen to me for once.” Tim whispers out. 

”Fine. Enlighten us then, replacement." 

Something in Tim shatters at that nickname, and for a quick second, he could feel nothing but unadulterated rage.

”Do you think this is easy for me? Do you? Huh? Do you think I don't feel hurt when I actively ignore you both, my own older brothers? You were supposed to help me and be my heroes. Fuck, you were my heroes. I took pictures of you guys in your Robin days. I’d follow you into alleyways and fights. You guys were **everything** to me.” 

”What changed then?” 

Tim laughs hysterically at the duo. 

” **You guys did.** You guys left me first, I’m just paying back the favor. Dick, you wanted to send me to Arkham Asylum, remember?” 

”You did what?” Jason asks furiously, turning to his side to glare at Dick. 

”Bruce resented me for almost killing Captain Boomerang after he killed my father. I don't even know why I tried, my father was a shithead anyways.” 

Dick takes a deep inhale in response, as Jason grinds his teeth together. 

”Damian was out for my blood, Jason was never there, and when you were there you legit called me ’replacement’.”

”I never meant it like that, Timmy—“

Tim stares at him with wet eyes. 

”Don’t lie to me, Jay. Just don't." 

"Tim, stop no-" 

"Haven't you done enough? Haven't you _**ruined**_ me enough? So why are you here? Why do you suddenly care about me!" Tim yells out. 

The kitchen falls silent. 

The front door opens, Damian steps in. 

"Timothy, I demand you to sue my English teacher, Ms. Maine. She is inadequate—what is going on?” 

Tim shakes his head at Damian. 

“Damian, I can forgive. He was a clean slate for me. We had no relationship that needed repairing, as ours was already nonexistent, but you guys...” Tim mumbles out. 

“I trusted you guys, but I guess I expected too much, huh?” 

Tim feels the tears drop down onto his lap.

” _I was a Robin and I was falling, I was falling and there wasn't a safety net to catch me._ ”

Tim stands up and walks to his bedroom. He locks the door behind him. 

Damian growls in frustration. 

“Grayson! Todd!” 

The duo recoils from his wrath. 

“ **What the fuck did you do?** ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You're comments and kudos inspire me to keep going! 🥺🖤🖤🖤


	6. E.V.O.L.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian is angry and Tim is hurt, this wasn't how any of the Robins expected lunch to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything lmao!
> 
> I love writing and publishing this chapter in Econ class.

Jason and Dick remain silent whileDamian fumes at them. The little hellion was staying true to his name, as of at that moment, he really did look like Satan’s spawn. 

Dick inhales deeply, to Damian it sounded like a dying cat.

”Dami, we just wanted to understand—“ 

“Don’t call me that! You lost the right to call me that the moment I walked into this room.” He responds, drilling holes through the duo with his glare. 

”We just wanted to find out what happened, alright? We just wanted the **truth**.” Jason sighs while ruffling his hair up in guilt.

”Well, I hope you're happy with your answer. Because this will not occur a second time. I’ll make sure of it.” Damian sneers. 

Damian’s unsung promise reverberates into the hallway.

”We never meant for this to happen.” Dick whispers in a somber tone. 

”Whether you meant it or not, what’s done is done. And now, Tim is hurt.” He seethes. 

”What were we supposed to do then, brat? Stay silent?” Jason argues in frustration.

”You could have waited! You could have told me your plans, instead of hitting us with them suddenly! I would have helped you out, so that an event like this wouldn't have occurred in the first place!”

”Would you really have helped us?” Dick questions from beside Jason, glancing at Damian in suspicion. 

”I would have, but I guess my help wouldn't do much since it seems like I am the only one who seems to care about Tim!”

” _THAT IS NOT TRUE—_ “ They scream in unison.

” _OH FUCK OFF!_ ” Damian’s cursing cuts through the tension immediately, leaving nothing but silence in its wake. 

** (It was surprising after all, to hear the most put-together brother break character). **

_"IF YOU GUYS WERE SO CONCERNED ABOUT HIM, THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU DO ANYTHING? WHY DIDN’T YOU APOLOGIZE? WHY DID YOU LET HIM FALL SO FAR? YOU GUYS ARE SPOUTING SOME BIG WORDS WITH NO PROOF TO SHOW FOR IT."_ Damian shouts. 

_”WE WERE GOING TO APOLOGIZE! THAT’S WHAT WE WERE TRYING TO DO BEFORE YOU CAME!“_ Jason yells back while Dick clenches his fists. 

Damian laughs at them darkly before shaking his head in disagreement. 

"Tt. Just admit it already. Admit that the only reason Tim came to your attention is because of me and my tendency to hang out with him. Admit that you were jealous of our closeness and took it out on him. Admit that you were wrong." He states with a huff. 

The duo doesn't answer, and that just adds fuel to Damian's ire. 

_"If you guys cared about him so much, then why am I the only one here?”_ He finishes defeatedly. 

Once again, utter silence permeates the room. 

The quietness is broken when Jason pinches the bridge of his nose and gets up. The Red Hood grabs Dick by the shoulders before storming towards the door. 

"We're leaving." 

"What? Jason! Why?" Dick squawks. 

”Just shut the fuck up dickface and come with me.”

Jason turns the handle and opens the door. He turns back momentarily, hesitating at the last second. 

”Damian, tell Tim that we're sorry.” Jason finally whispers. 

Damian rolls his eyes in response. 

”Tell him that yourselves. I'm not a messenger.” 

Jason bites back a snarky remark.

”Figures.”

Really, they should've known it wasn't going to be easy. 

** They should have known.  **

Tim was done. 

He was so tired of his family's bullshit. 

He could hear the yells and the screams from the kitchen. It wasn't hard to figure out who they were talking about. 

Honestly, who else would it be, but him?

Tim hated it. 

_’Hehatedithehatedithehatedithatedthemhehated_ '

Tim only has himself to blame. He should’ve been better. He should have kept his cool. 

He should have— 

Why did he keep messing up?

‘ _Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy.’_

“God, I’m such a fuck up.” 

The teen begins to shake from his fetal position on the bedroom floor. He couldn't stop, even as he began to gasp for air, he just couldn't stop the rush of emotions moving through him.

He ruined it. He ruined the everlasting remains of brotherhood he had with Dick and Jason. 

He broke it. He poured kerosene ontop of the remains and lit a match on it, while simultaneously pissing on its flames. 

Tim took a literal shit on their relationship. 

And he doesn't regret it. He doesn't regret anything. 

He just feels numb. 

Tim can't stop the hysterical laughter from coming out. 

He laughs and laughs and _laughslaughslaughslaughslaughs_. 

Like the maniac he is, like the lunatic he is, like the _**monster**_ he is. 

Tim’s laugh bubbles up and overflows. It ricochet's off the walls, echoing eerily. 

Tim bends forward so that his head was in between his legs. His shoulders continue to shake as if he was having an overdose. 

”Timothy?” 

Tim snaps his head up in surprise. 

When did Damian get here? Didn't he lock the door? Why is he on his bed? Wasn't he on the floor? 

”Tim? C-can I stay over and have a sleepover? Remember the ones you told me about?” Damian questions.

Distantly in his mind, Tim knew that Damian was trying to distract him. It was obvious, but Tim didn't care at that moment. Damian’s deception meant nothing to him if anything it was a saving grace. 

”Yeah, let's have a s-sleepover, Dami.” Tim repsonds shakily. 

Damian gives a hesitant smile in return, before going in for a hug. 

Tim feels the knot in his chest unwind when Damian places his head near his heart. And so, he can't help, but rub his chin against the younger's hair in response. 

Tim kisses the top of Damian’s forehead.

The unsaid _’I love you’_ permeates the air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! ILYSM! You really brighten my days by liking my work! Either by commenting or giving me a kudos, I love it all! I’m trying to update once a week or so, but tbh I only have a faint outline on where the rest of this story will go. However, please continue supporting my works. Noctis, OUT! 🖤


	7. Airplane Mode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Damian bond after the mess Jason and Dick made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN SHIT  
> These songs made me think of Tim a lot ngl. 
> 
> Songs: Airplane Mode - limbo 
> 
> This Is Home - Cavetown
> 
> ”I'm trying to be ultra mega happy  
> And show you my smile and send you my feelings  
> And fuck, it is so hard being so damn far”

Tim felt the weight of his past decisions hit him the moment he stepped into Target. 

He knew that Jason and Dick were up to something. 

He knew it...and **_yet_** , he let them rile him up. He lost control, and Tim hated not having any semblance of restraint. 

_Restraint, control, and discipline_. Those were Tim's strengths, not including, his observational skills of course. But that was beyond the point, the problem was that Tim allowed himself to be affected. 

He couldn't help but feel disappointed. 

_ ’But you’re used to being a disappointment aren't you?’ _

Tim cracks the back of his neck as a result of his own inner turmoil. 

If he couldn't mentally relax he'll have to physically do it instead. 

_Fake it until you make it,_ was Tim’s motto after all. 

Throwing those thoughts aside, Tim turns his attention onto his little brother. 

Damian wanted to experience a full Gothamite Sleepover, so Tim would give him the best-damned sleepover ever. 

It was his duty as an older brother to do so. 

Walking through the aisles, Tim ignored his ever-growing dread, focusing on grabbing items instead. 

_’Pizzas? Check. Chips? Check. Funny movies? Check. Horror flicks? Check. Black and White tapes? Check. Sodas? Check.’_

Tim hummed, wracking his brain for more ideas. What else did they need? 

Tim turned to his side, about to ask Damian for his input, but his little brother seemed to be preoccupied. 

"Do you want something, Dames?" Tim inquires. 

Damian shakes his head in confusion, before pouting at Tim. 

"I don't understand, Timothy." 

"Understand what?" 

"That miniature oven over there? It says it makes small foods and desserts! Just how is that supposed to be appealing to the Gotham populace?" 

The pure bemusement in Damian's voice sets Tim off, as he realizes what his little brother was referring to. 

Failing to stifle a laugh, Tim chokes out,

"You mean the Easy-Bake Oven?" 

”Easy-Bake? What is that? Do children who aspire to be chefs use it, in order to develop their skills?”

Damian’s utterly serious tone made it all the more hilarious to Tim. Honestly, leave it to his little brother to make a big fuss over a children’s toy. 

"The Easy-Bake Oven was created in New York, 1963, by a man named, Robert Howes. It’s a popular product for kids.”

”So, it’s just a children’s toy?”

”Correct, young one.”

”Tt.” Damian grinds out, looking at the toy in hidden desire. 

Tim gets it for him before checking out with the clerk. Damian could deny and yell at him for all he wants, but Tim could see through him. 

** (Tim could see _him_ , amazing right?). **

The drive back home didn't take long, and the next thing Tim knew, a movie was playing in the background as he tries to set up the Easy-Bake Oven. 

Tim was sitting down on his kitchen chair, staring at the instructions in despair. 

_ ‘God, is this what parents feel like when helping their kids with homework, only to find out that their school’s curriculum had changed for the worst?’ _

These instructions were way different than the ones Tim grew up with. It was giving him a migraine just reading it. 

_ ’What kinda thrice-damned instructions had glitter on it? GLITTER, really?’ _

Tim could feel his soul leave his body, while he slowly put the toy together.

_ ’Remember, Drake, this is for Damian. Yes, for Damian. For Damian...Damian...Damian.’  _

Tim let out a small victory cry after he puts in the final piece of the oven. 

Slamming his forehead down on the table, Tim groans out, 

”Take it away, **Mr. Pâtissier!** ” Tim waves his hands along jokingly. 

Damian scrunches his nose in him in fake contempt. 

"Hmph! Behold Timothy, let me show you how to make a true masterpiece."

Tim gives a glance back at Damian, grinning when he spots the focused look the little hellion was wearing. 

"Show me what you got then, **'Master Chef'**."

Tim dozes off to the sound of Damian mixing some of the pre-made dessert packets together. 

_ 'Can't believe Kon and Bart said he was dangerous...dangerous my ass. At least, Cassie is staying neutral...for now.'  _

Tim awakes to the aroma of chocolate and frosting. 

"Good morning, Tim." 

"Ugh, shut up, kiddo." 

Tim looks at Damian blearily, before sniffing out where the distinct sweet smell was coming from. 

In front of the tired teen, was a single chocolate cookie. At first, it seemed like a plain old dessert, until Tim realized there was a design on it made entirely out of frosting and edible glitter. 

On the cookie, in white frosting, was a dragon. It wasn't a Medieval Dragon, no, this one lacked wings and was more serpent-like. This was a _**Chinese Dragon**_.

The white frosting had small flecks of glitter, making it shimmer when the light hit it. There were also two red circular sprinkles on where the eyes should be. 

Tim thought it was absolutely breathtaking. He didn't even want to eat it, he’d feel guilty destroying such a **magnum opus**. 

”That is your name, is it not? Drake, Draco, Drago, and Draconis. That's all you."

Tim ruffles his hair, speechless for a tender second. 

"Draconis, the head of the dragon?"

"You are the only Drake left. You are a heir and a future head, just like me." 

Tim swallows the ball forming in his throat. This kid, he was too much for his poor caffeinated heart. 

The teen shakily reaches for the cookie and takes a bite out of it. It tasted like diabetes and sugar, but....it also tasted like love. 

Tim snaps a picture of the masterpiece before devouring all of it, and for memory's sake, he snaps a picture of Damian smiling at his creation in pride with his chest puffed out. 

He sends the picture to the group chat, turning his phone to airplane mode straight after. 

He didn't want to see the texts Bart, Kon, and Cassie would send about Dami. The moment was just too great to spoil.

He’ll just scroll through them later anyways. 

”Alright, Damian! Next up, cheesy movies! Everyone watches cliché movies all night during sleepovers!” 

”Whatever you say, Tim. Whatever you say.” 

Tim’s chest warms up in response. 

_ ’Maybe happiness wasn't a lost cause for him after all.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! All of your love and support fuels me to better my writing! 🥺🖤🖤🖤


	8. Caffeine Cult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim just wanted some damn coffee, okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: i still don't own DC, large depression :(((((
> 
> Song(s): Right Here - Chase Atlantic

Tim knew it was a ballsy move to send a picture of Damian to the group chat. He knew it would somehow backfire. 

He knew it would. 

He just didn't think it’d prompt his friends into meeting with his little brother sooner than expected. 

And so, here they were, sitting down in a homey bistro that was quite well-known in Gotham for its amazing coffee. 

Tim ordered a black coffee, already having perceived how this whole fiasco would go.

The tension in this room would kill him faster than his lack of spleen _ever could_.

From his peripheral vision, Damian was sitting ramrod straight. He was obviously worked up by the multiple glares being sent directly his way. 

Cassie—God bless that girl— was the only one who was acting normal. Bart and Connor however, were an entire matter completely. 

Tim _flinches_ when a waitress passes by, suppressing the urge to make up an excuse to leave. 

Tim breathes in deep through his nostrils, his hands gripping the cup to an unusual degree. 

Cassie shoots him a glance from across the table. Tim just winks at her in response. 

_ 'I'm okay...I think.' _

To the right of them, Damian could be seen as having a rather dynamic conversation with the speedster and Kryptonian duo. 

"Why would you even insinuate that I would ever hurt-" 

"Like you haven't hurt Tim before?" 

"Sorry demon kid, but Kon's right." 

"You don't even know me!"

"We know enough to see that you're bad news-" 

"Well, it seems like your data is outdated-"

"I beg to differ brat, listen we don't know what you're playing at, but I swear to the speed force-"

Tim would rather have Ra's send him roses **again** than deal with the upcoming fight that was bound to occur. 

Tim clenches his nose in between his thumb and his index finger in frustration. 

Could this get any worse? 

Scratch that, yes, it could get worse and sadly, it did. 

Who knew Damian would get jealous over something as simple as Tim playing babysitter? 

You see, Tim was minding his own damn business, **read as:** _he was motherfucking tired of the commotion and decided to ignore all parties involved, not including Cassie of course._

He was conversing with Cassie about this new soap opera she forced him to watch, and how yes, it really was awful that Alexander cheated on Felicity like that, and no, Tim did not, in fact, have a crush on one of the actors in the show. 

It was at that moment when the house of cards all fell down. 

It was no secret that Tim loved coffee, he literally named his snake not only after a writer but after a coffee brand too. 

His love for caffeinated beverages was truly astounding. 

Secretly, Tim always wanted to start a caffeine  cult. Ra’s was right, perhaps Tim did have some potential in being the boss of some kind of organization. 

Since Tim frequently went to this bistro, he became friends with the owner instantly. The owner was a jovial man, who was well into his 60’s. This cafe was a family-owned business that was passed down from generation to generation. The owner proudly stated that his son was going to inherit this business along with his wife after they came back from a vacation. 

The couple wanted some time for themselves, so they left their 7-year-old with the owner. The owner was always busy running the cafe though, so whenever Tim came by, which was very often, he would take care of the owner’s grandson. He never expected for the young boy to get attached to him, but he did. 

So, it wasn't a complete surprise, when the owner came by his table to thank Tim for all the hard work he did when entertaining his grandson. 

”He thinks of you as an older brother, y'know ?” 

Tim didn't think too hard at that statement, he just simply said a small,

”Thanks.” 

Before watching the older man walk off to a different table. 

It wasn't until he heard a tiny smidgen of the conversation to the side of him, did he realize something was wrong. 

”See? That’s the type of little brother Tim needs!” The speedster groans out while talking to Kon. 

The Kryptonian agrees heavily, shooting another glare at Damian. 

And for once, since this whole verbal battle started, Damian stayed still. 

He was silent, to the point that it was unnerving. 

Excusing himself quietly, the green-eyed Robin heads out of the bistro with his head down. 

It only takes five seconds for Tim to race after him. 

_’tHoSE fUCkinG iDiOTS...’_ His mind wails in fury. 

Damian notices he was chasing after him and speeds up the pace. 

Tim grinds his teeth in a mix of worry and anger. 

He was going to maim the duo when all this was over. 

In the end, it didn't take long for Tim to catch up. Damian gave up shortly when he realized he was trapped into a corner at Gotham Park. 

”Is it true?” The younger Robin accuses harshly while avoiding all eye contact with Tim. 

Tim didn't like the insecurities that were being displayed quite openly on Dami's face. 

He didn't like it at all. 

In fact, you could even say he hated it. 

** (Almost as much as he hated himself). **

"They were trying to get under your skin Dames, don't listen to them." 

"But, all they said was truthful, Timothy." 

Tim didn't know how to respond to that. It was always him who was so hesitant about their bond at first, he never even considered about Damian. That was a huge error on his part. 

Tim's sudden silence aggravates Damian further. 

"Do you hate me? Do you wish for another younger brother? A better brother? Do you, Drake?" 

The switch in names immediately sounded all the alarms in Tim's head. 

He scrambled to find an answer, before blurting out whatever came into his mind. 

"If I wanted another younger brother I would have never offered my companionship to you, in the first place, Damian. I would have never bought tickets for the zoo, suffer through a dinner with the family, or let you stay over for the weekend if I didn't love you. Please understand that all of my actions have had good intentions from the start. You know me, Damian. You know me.”

Damian looks up at Tim, forcing back the tears that were about to spill. 

Tim sighs in relief. 

”Come here you little imp.” 

Damian obliges and leaps up to him. Tim catches him and gently cradles his baby brother, before walking back to the cafe with Dami in his arms. 

The table was oddly quiet when Tim got back. He shoots a glance at Cassie, confused about what happened while they were gone. 

The superheroine just points to one of her ears as an answer. 

They listened to his chat with Damian via superhearing, it seemed like Kon acted as a translator. Tim should have known they would eavesdrop. 

He should have known many things, quite honestly. 

Sitting down on his seat, Damian still wouldn't let go, if anything he latched onto Tim tighter than ever before. 

The sound of a throat being cleared catches their attention. 

”We’re sorry if we stepped over the line.” 

”We just wanted to protect you, Tim.” 

Tim huffs at them from across the table. 

”Mhm, great job at doing that guys. Really, bravo.” 

The duo wince in terror, hearing the ill-hidden displeasure in Tim's voice. 

"As much as we hate to admit it though-" Bart starts off warily. 

"We accept him." Kon finishes. 

"It's obvious now that we were in the wrong.” 

”Friends?” 

Tim glances down at Damian. The kid was hiding his face within his chest. 

”Tt. Acquaintances.” The Robin replies with fake snark. 

”Ugh, finally!” Cassie yells out, putting down her phone that she was priorly scrolling through. 

”You took forever in screening the little demon spawn! Like, sheesh, Tim probably checked the brat out multiple times himself; he would have realized by now if the little man was fooling around or not!” 

Tim concedes with her. 

”Ye have so little faith.” He jokes with a small grin. 

”Whatever, but know this demon brat! Hurt him and I’ll laser you.” 

”SAME HERE! I’LL VIBRATE MY HAND THROUGH YOUR STOMACH IF YOU HURT OUR LITTLE TIM!”

Bart ignores Tim’s exclamation of, 

”But I’m taller than you, Bart!” 

”Agreed. Hurt our little leader and I’ll turn you to dust with my lasso, pipsqueak.” 

”I’m not that short...” Tim continues to mutter. 

”Hn. Fine, I’ll conform with your terms. But don't think I won't hunt you down as well if you decide to hurt him, accidentally or not. I’m a bat, don't think for a second that I’ll let you off so easily.” 

Damian whispers with a grin, turning his head back a bit, so that they could see the warning glare he had on his face. 

The trio shiver at his antics. 

_’Well, it could have gone worse.’_ His mind mumbles. 

Tim flinches once more when another waitress passes him by, but he ignores it. 

He didn't want to ruin the atmosphere. 

He could deal with his own problems at a different date with a different him. 

_ A different Tim._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK U SM FOR READING! ILY GUYS UWU! 🥺🖤🖤🖤


	9. I wish you could be honest, I wish you could be honest with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim hated lying, but he hated telling the truth so much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. 
> 
> Fun fact: I posted this and rewrote this in class. Aha, I rewrote this chapter like 7ish times? 
> 
> Song(s): Honest - NBHD
> 
> "If I gave you control would you say that we could've saved it?"

Damian loved to invoke a sense of prowess and confidence wherever he went. The little imp simply didn't like displaying his own weaknesses out in the open. It was just second nature of him to hide everything and anything that could be taken as a flaw. 

** (Tim was an anomaly though, a single strand of existence, that could make even the greatest walls tremble from emotion). **

Nevertheless, even to the untrained eyes, one could sense that something foul was afoot. 

You see, it was currently a Saturday and Damian had slept over at Tim’s apartment. This wasn't uncommon since the boy did it quite frequently. 

Damian woke up feeling rather refreshed, and after making sure he looked presentable, he made his way towards the kitchen. 

Again, nothing peculiar there.

In the early mornings, Damian would always wake up to find Tim sitting on top of the kitchen’s counter, sipping coffee and gazing over past mission reports. 

His breakfast would be sitting on the table, still warm and ripe for the picking. Damian would then scarf down his breakfast before questioning Tim on whatever missions he was reading about. 

That was how typical mornings went whenever he slept over. 

Although, it seemed that today would deviate from the norm. 

There were a couple of things that Damian noticed when he first stepped into the kitchen. 

One, there was no breakfast waiting for him on the table.

Two, there were no mission reports on the kitchen counter. 

Three, the coffee maker was not on.

And four, Tim wasn't there. 

Let Damian rephrase that: 

Timothy Jackson Drake. Red Robin. Timothy. Tim. Drake. Timbers. Timmy. Timbo. His older brother. His _**beloved**_ older brother. 

Wasn't home. 

_ He wasn't there. _

Damian was left alone in the apartment.

With each second he stood in the empty kitchen, the more did the feeling of wrongness in his chest amplify. 

"T-Tim?" 

Damian’s voice shakes when he realizes there were no sounds emanating from the apartment. The only sound he could truly hear was his own breathing. Other than that it was silent. 

Completely silent. 

His heart rate begins to skyrocket. 

The young Robin immediately checks his brother's bedroom. He opens the mahogany door so fast that it creaks under the pressure, but Damian ignores it. Tim could yell at him later about it once he’s found. 

_'If he's ever found.'_ His mind whispers. 

But Tim wasn't in his bedroom, and Damian—poor Damian— couldn’t figure out (for the life of him) where his big brother had gone. 

His bed was still unmade and Konan was swallowing his meal happily. Everything seemed picture perfect, only one key element was missing. 

Just where was he? 

Why was there no note? 

Why was there no text?

Why was he gone?

Those questions constantly circled around Damian’s head, teasing him about his own inability to find Tim.

The young Robin walked back to the living room and waited behind the door for Tim. 

He could wait forever if he had to. 

Tim didn't like to hide, but he was the type of person who did it out of necessity. 

So when he got a call early in the morning from his doctor, he instantly took it outside. 

He wandered around the neighborhood for a good hour or two after the call ended. 

Tim was in a daze. He was there yet not at the same time. He could feel the coldness of the breeze whizzing past him, he could hear the gurgle of his empty stomach, and he could see the sun come up from the horizon. 

His senses were working perfectly, they were just muted at the moment. **Numb**. 

The sunrise reflected specks of orange and pink off of Tim's apartment. The eerie calmness contrasting with the inner turmoil Tim was dealing with. 

_"Mr. Drake, I have some news regarding your_ _missing spleen."_

The first thing Tim noticed once he passed through his front door, was Damian’s still form. 

Tim paused at the doorway, unsure of what to say.

What could he say? 

Hey, I'm sorry, by the way did you know that I have a missing spleen?

Ah, yes, that conversation would go splendidly. 

The older male could envision it, the crying, the screaming, the betrayal. 

He could already feel the swirl of emotions that were bound to take place. 

Tim's eyes locked on to Damian's, neither of them wanted to speak. 

Tim's throat closed up from nervousness. It felt like a hand had crushed his windpipe, disabling his ability to even utter a syllable. 

Tim didn't want to lie to Damian, but it's not like he wanted to tell the truth either. 

"Where were you?" Dami eventually questions. 

The anxiousness in his younger brother's tone was clear. 

_'Wehaveinformationregardingyourspleenspleenspleenspleenmakeanappointmentasapthisislifeordeathlifeordeathdeathdeath_ ' 

The slap emits a rattling sound once Damian's palm makes contact with his cheek. 

"Timothy? Tim? Brother, please respond! You're blanking out on me!" 

Tim didn't want to have this conversation. 

Admittedly, the teen was scared. He wanted to take the Olive Branch Dami reached out to him, but his fears were making him hesitate. 

Don't be mistaken, Tim wants to be better. He wants to get help. 

He know's damn well that his habits weren't healthy. 

But he was terrified of getting any negative feedback. 

_ 'Get over it. Yourlifeisntthatbadbadbad. You're a Drake, what type of hardships did you experience? Did daddy forget to give you money this week?' _

~~** (No, father screamed at me this week before throwing a cermaic plate at my face. I had to pick the pieces out of my temple with tweezers). ** ~~

_ 'Oh no! Did your mommy forget to pack your expensive lunch, little Timmy?' _

~~** (No, mother grounded me for receiving an A- in Honors Pre-Calaculus, I was given no dinner for two days aspunishment). ** ~~

"Tim?" 

The older Robin blinks, having not noticed when Damian started to cling onto him. 

Dami was holding him like he didn't want to let go, believing Tim would vanish if he wasn't careful. 

Tim needed to tell him. 

And so, ignoring the screeches that were coming from his mind, Tim spoke. 

_** "Damian, I don't have a spleen."**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Ily guys so much! You make my life sm better!!! 🥺🖤🖤🥳


	10. Liar, liar, pants on fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Tim wants to be hated. Being hated is much more easier than being loved, he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN SHIZ 
> 
> Sorry for not updating last week, I was busy and had a bit of a writers block. The other part of this will come out soon as well, since I missed out on uploading last time!  
> FYI this is just a transition chapter, so it's kinda short. Sry abt that :(((
> 
> Songs: Sober - P!nk

People say that the truth hurts...

Tim wanted to call bullshit on that. 

The teen didn't think that it was the truth that hurt, but the process that did. 

The process of explaining a lie and revealing the truth, yes, that was more distressing. 

** ”What do you mean that you're missing a vital organ?” **

A meltdown was coming soon, it was imminent, unavoidable. 

** ”You don’t just lose a fucking organ, Timothy.” **

The young Robin begins to ramble,

”What—“ 

“Who—“

_ “Your spleen?”  _

Damian shakes in his arms, whispering, 

“And you didn’t think to tell me? Or any of the family?” 

Tim bites his lip, not saying anything, but that was already enough for Damian to understand. 

A wave of desperation starts to bubble in Tim’s chest. Was this it? The other shoe dropping, the proverbial shit hitting the fan? 

”Why are you telling me this now? A-are you—“

Damian immediately stops talking and instead takes a shuddering breath. 

_ "Are you dying, Timothy?"  _

A dead weight of tension settles into the room after the question was uttered. 

The aura was devastating. 

"No." Tim answers, hiding his face in Damian's hair. 

"No, I don't think-" 

"You don't think?" 

"I-" 

"So, that means you don't know?" 

"Damian, please-" 

"Are you dying, **yes or no**?" 

"...."

"I can't say for sure." 

Damian becomes lax in his arms. 

"I got a call from my private doctor. He wanted me to set up an appointment for tomorrow morning. He said it was about my lack of spleen." 

“Is that it? Is that why you’re telling me? Because this is a life or death situation?" 

“I’m telling you this because I want you to come with me, Damian.” 

Damian grinds his teeth in anger. 

The silence was deafening. 

" **Sometimes** , I really wished I could hate you again, Timothy.”

Tim inhales sharply in response. 

"So, why don't you then? Go back to hating me." 

Damian scrambles out of Tim's embrace and seizes him by the collar. 

"Because you do shit like this! You care for others and love them. And when or if they leave you don't act surprised! If anything, you expect it! You give and give and give, even when the well has been long since dried. You're a selfless and pathetic fool, Timothy!"

Damian's voice echoes in the apartment. 

_** "A selfless and pathetic fool...of an older brother..." ** _

Damian lets go of his collar, and burrows himself into his chest. 

Tim sighs wearily, wrapping his arms around his little brother. 

"Tomorrow, okay? I'll tell you, promise."

Damian tuts despondently. 

Normally, the brat would be demanding answers left and right. 

But even he knew, that getting Tim to speak would be like unraveling a sweater one string at a time. 

Additionally, Damian was tired. _**Very tired. So tired, actually.**_

He just found out his brother had no spleen. 

_ Spleen.  _

Jesus, what else did he not have? 

Next thing you know, Tim would tell him that he was secretly blind. 

** Or that his grandfather was inherently obsessed with him.  **

Damian felt sick at the latter. 

If Tim did turn out to be dying somehow from this, then Damian didn't want one of his last memories of his brother to be a fight over secrets. 

They were Bats, it shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. 

It shouldn't have hurt, but it did. 

_** It did.  ** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK U SM FOR READING. ILY GUYS! U MAKE WRITING WORTH IT! 🥺🖤


	11. Goodness, gracious, you're amazing. According to you, I'm a lucky lady.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim never did realize how lucky he was, until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own shiz! Also, this is not 100% medically accurate, I am no expert, and I had to tweak some stuff for the storyline! 
> 
> Song(s) - Shutter Island by Jessie Reyez
> 
> Edit: also has someone done this before?

Tim was a conundrum to Dr. Manazarc. 

From the minute the boy **(Manazarc knew the kid could be qualified as a teen, but to him, Tim was a boy and always will be)** walked in, so scared, so paranoid, so...fragile. **(So broken)** The doctor knew that this patient of his would be a problem. 

And, he was right. 

A missing spleen, huh?

His patient explained that when he was off the country for a meeting, he got caught up in a big car accident. A stray piece of shrapnel lodged itself into his spleen during it, and so, it had to be taken out. 

Manazarc didn't believe that though. He's seen shrapnel scars, and how rigged and choppy they were when they healed. Tim's wound scarred looking like it was sliced or pierced by something else or perhaps...by _someone else_. 

And the look in the brat's eyes, it made the doctor think about his own life as an ex-soldier in the army. A field medic, who retired upon serving his needed years. The life he left behind to become a civilian doctor. 

The scars on the kid's skin were enough evidence for him. 

_"So, you're one of them aren't you, kid?"_

_"One of what?"_

_"You have an IQ level well over 140, Tim. Don't play coy with me."_

_"That's kinda concerning of you to check my files, doc."_

_"I didn't, but thanks for telling me."_

_His patient hums in response._

_"Why ask me a question you already know the answer to?"_

_"Call it a guess-and-check."_

_The brat chokes down a laugh, a grin splaying across his face._

_"Now, back to business. I heard you haven't been taking the antibiotics for your missing spleen. Care to share with the class, Mr. Drake?"_

_"Wait, I have a good reason this time! I swear-"_

_And if the boy came by his place, not for his spleen, but for help with injuries that he sustained during his nightly hobby, then who was he to judge?_

_He was a doctor, it was his job to aid those in pain._

_Even if it meant supporting a kid, who had a scarily **long** destructive streak._

_**Just don't tell anybody that he was getting soft, alright?** _

Dr. Manazarc smiles slightly in reminisce. Not gonna lie, the brat grew on him a bit. 

Said brat came in half an hour later with a smaller brat in tow. 

_ ’God, it's like they multiply or something.’ _

The smaller brat introduced himself as Damian, saying he was the kid’s younger brother. 

The word “ _ **adoptive**_ ” was never uttered from his mouth, which left the older man a little confused.

From what the doctor knew, from whenever he prodded and questioned Tim while patching him up, the boy wasn’t close to anyone from his step-family. 

The doctor shoved it off, he could question his main kiddo later.

“Doctor.” Tim starts off formerly, causing him to twitch his mouth in amusement. 

“Stop with the formalities brat, it makes me feel older than I really am.” 

Tim rolls his eyes in good rebellious nature, muttering a small, “Hm, but you are old...” under his breath. 

The doctor ignores the stab at his totally-young-age. He was only in his early forties after all. And didn’t people say that forty was the new twenty or something? 

He turns to the mini brat instead. 

“My name is Dr. Ezekiel Manazarc, your brother’s head physician, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” Damian replies. 

Manazarc huffs in false annoyance, 

”Don’t be so stiff brat. Any family members or friends of Tim’s are welcome here, so there’s no need to be so dignified. Just call me ’doc’, that is what I am, essentially.” 

The miniature brat agrees readily to his own delight. 

"Now, first off I just want to say this isn't bad news. It's just unexpected." 

The two boys slightly relax from his words alone. The doctor shakes his head at the duo, seriously he was a pro, if Tim was in actual trouble he wouldn't have waited for nearly this long to get him to a hospital. 

Manazarc walks to his desk and takes out a file. He then retrieves two x-rays from it, before showing it to Tim. 

"Do you see any differences between these two photos? The first one's from almost a year ago, the second one's from last month's check-up." 

Damian peers at the photos, analyzing them with Tim. The brats almost looked cute, if it wasn't for the fact that they were looking at x-rays. 

”There’s a small blob where my spleen is?” Tim answers after a couple of minutes. 

”Is it a tumor?” His brother questions warily. 

Manazarc laughs at their grave responses. 

”No....that’s a secondary spleen.” 

Tim stares at him in bafflement. 

”Pardon me?” 

”Congrats, kiddo! You have a spleen again!” 

Tim’s mouth stills. 

Manazarc offers him a brief look of sympathy, before voicing out his findings, 

”Accessory spleens are only founded in 10% of the population, so consider yourself lucky, brat. Basically, sometimes when a spleen is forcefully taken out or removed, some splenic tissue is left behind. It takes a while, but slowly those splenic tissues can grow into a new spleen, replacing the one that's been removed.” 

Damian moves closer to his brother, noticing how vulnerable Tim appeared. 

”This is why I called you here, we will continue our monthly check-ups, just to make sure that this new spleen isn't harming you at all. We will also change your antibiotic dosages, lessening them as time goes by until your new spleen is fully formed. I expect you to actually take your medicine this time, understand? I know your ’lifestyle’ causes you to skip them every once in a while, but this is imperative, in order for us to monitor your progress.” Manazarc continues to explain. 

”We will be taking blood tests every month to check for your cell count and some ultrasounds to monitor your growth rate. I don't want to expose you to monthly x-rays or CT-scans, as that would build-up your radiation levels. It will approximately take from now, a few months for your new spleen to grow and be fully functional.” 

Somehow, Tim takes all this information in stride. His mind already forming plans on how to keep up to date with this new information. It was too much to take at once, but he needed this data, this information. 

It gave him hope. 

_This_ , gave him hope. 

”Anyways, enough with my medical jargon. I’ll go type up the prescription for your new antibiotic dosage right now, while one of the phlebotomists come to draw some blood, assuming you haven't eaten?” 

Tim shakes his head ”no”. 

Manazarc grins, as he carries on,

”I just want to check your cell count right now, to see if there is an increase of plasma and such due to a new spleen being formed. We'll forego the ultrasound for a better time." 

Manazarc leaves, when one of the phlebotomists, Dr. Kruso, comes in. 

The brat didn't like female doctors or nurses, so Manazarc made sure a male one was always there at the ready. 

Shaking his head in politeness to the other doctor, Manazarc left to type up his new report. 

It took him about fifteen minutes or so to finish it. He already had some of it pre-typed beforehand, the doctor just had to input some finalizations. 

Printing the form out, he went back to the room where his favorite brat was waiting. 

**(Dr. Manazarc was sterile and therefore, was never able to have kids. But if he ever did have a son, he likes to think that they'd be similar to Tim).**

Manazarc remembers a time when he went to make a withdrawal from Gotham’s Bank, and ended up in the middle of a robbery with some of Penguin’s goons. He was having a slight PTSD moment, never really forgetting his time in service, when a red and black costumed hero dropped down with a staff. It wasn’t until later that he found out the masked crusader was Gotham’s resident, Red Robin. 

Of course, he never told Tim that he was a victim of a past robbery his alter ego busted. But, he thinks Tim had recongnized him by now. The kid was bright like that. 

Walking into the room, the doctor hands him the paper. 

"Off you go now! You're finished here, scram little Timmy!" He teases with a chuckle. 

His patient sends him a pointed glare in return, not liking the joke about his height. 

Tim steps closer to older male, and to his own shock, hugs him. 

”Thanks, doc.” Tim says, smushing his face into the man’s lab coat. 

”Anytime, Red.” Manazarc whispers softly, making sure Tim would be the only one able to hear it. 

Damian doesn't give him a hug but shoots him a grateful look on the way out. 

The door closes behind them, and Manazarc is left alone in his clinic. 

“....”

”Man, I love my _kids_.”

**(Seconds later, Manazarc backtracks a bit when he realizes he just mentally adopted another kid).**

Timothy stumbles out of the hospital in a trance, barely noticing when he plops into the driver’s seat. Fairing a look at Damian, Tim could see the demon imp wasn't doing much better. 

They needed a breather, it was quite obvious. 

Laying his head down on the wheel of the parked car, Tim breathes a sigh of relief. 

Damian soflty speaks from beside him, the hesitation clear in his voice, 

"Who did it?" 

Tim inhales tiredly, too emotionally exhaused for this conversation. But, he promised didn't he? 

Not wanting to say it outright, Tim states, 

"You know who it is." 

In his peripheral vision, he catches the furrow of Damian’s brow, as the young Robin tries to figure it out. 

His posture immediately changes after a few minutes of contemplation. 

And for the second time in his life, Damian regrets being part of the **cursed** Al Ghul lineage. 

_ ”Oh.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am actually not quite sure about this chapter. I was hit for inspiration during the development process, but I'm not too confident in the outcome. Nonetheless, thank you all for reading! ILSYM 🥺🖤 - NOCTIS OUT!


	12. Broken Records

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian has a lot of work cut out for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still don't own DC, if I did Damian and Tim would have so much more scenes together. 
> 
> Song(s)- When the party's over - Billie Eilish

The car ride to the local CVS was quiet. _Deathly quiet._

Damian was brooding and Tim wasn't doing much better. 

Both of them were regretting several things at the moment. 

Taking a final glance at his younger brother, Tim speaks, 

"It was during the time Bruce went missing. Do you remember it?” 

Swallowing back a remark, Damian answers, 

”I do.” 

”I made a big ordeal about it? I thought he was alive-"

Tim cuts himself off, shame creeping up his spine. 

He takes a left and continues to drive steadily towards their destination. 

Ignoring, how his own anxiety was making him feel nauseous. 

”He was the only one who understood my thoughts, Damian. I had no one else to turn to, to trust. A few of my friends believed me, yeah. But not my family, not my **brothers**." Tim rants, losing himself into his own spiel. 

The hurt was evident in his tone. 

It made Damian's stomach churn. 

"I just wanted someone to help me, to see me. To acknowledge where I was coming from..." 

”That is no excuse. Grandfather, should have never been a choice for you to turn to, Timothy.” Damian rebukes **harshly**. 

Shaking his head at him, Tim responds,

”I needed help, Damian. It was necessary, _for us_ , _for our family."_

Tim reaches the pharmacy and switches the ignition off, parking them safely at the CVS. 

He then hides his face behind his hands, too scared to show his expression. 

”You don’t understand. **Someone needed to take the fall.** ” 

”And you **assumed** it had to be you?” Damian snorts. 

Inhaling loudly, Tim whispers, 

” **Who else would it be,** **but me**?” 

Damian grips the handle next to him forcefully, anger simmering beneath his skin.

” **YOU COMPLETE MORON-** "

” **JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND, DAMIAN!** ” Tim explodes in frustration. 

The car is sent into utter silence once more. 

Tim brings his head up and stares down into the palms of his hands. He begins to trace letters on his right hand with the other, a prisoner to his own mind. 

Damian bites his lip, choking down a sob. 

"Out of all of us, who do you think is the _weakest_ _link_ in the family?” Tim eventually asks. 

Stiffening upon his question, Damian doesn't answer. 

Tim rests his gaze on Damian, staring through him as if he was trying to peer into his soul. 

”If one of us were to die, who do you think will be the _less_ _impactful_? Who do you think will be _rarely missed_?” 

Damian takes a peek at Tim’s eyes, and was upset to see a distant and cold look on his face. 

He looked like a porcelain doll. So solid, yet so fake at the same time. Truly, a mask among masks. 

" _I'm easily forgettable, Damian_."

“ **BULLSHIT! YOUR OWN VISION OF SELF WORTH DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN COMMIT SUICIDAL MISSIONS**!" Damian screeches wildly, mortified at Tim’s words. 

“Bruce is Batman! We need him to function! He’s our center! And we can’t lose him! And if finding him meant making a _deal with the devil_! If it meant leading the League of Assassins! If it meant going against the Council of Spiders! Or getting betrayed and having a spleen taken out! **SO WHAT? WE NEEDED HIM! DICK NEEDED HIM. JASON NEEDED HIM. YOU NEEDED HIM! _AND I NEEDED HIM_! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?**” Tim justifies madly. 

Huffing roughly, the teen then drops himself onto his seat like a sack of potatoes. 

His speech leaving both of them breathless. 

" **You knew** grandfather would betray you.You were **fully prepared to die**."

_'You knew there was a high chance of never coming back...'_

"...."

" **I was**." 

Those words must have triggered something in Damian because next thing he knew he was bursting into tears  and throwing himself onto Timothy. 

Damian began to weep onto his brother, thumping his hands against Tim's chest. 

Disregarding the punches, Tim wraps his arms around the younger boy,  pulling him in close. 

" **Ihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyou-** "

"I know." 

" **Ihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyou-** "

"I'm sorry." 

" **Ihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyou-** " 

"Sorry."

Tim places his chin on the crown of Damian's head, rocking him slowly in his arms. 

" **Ihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyou-** "

_ 'Why?'  _

" **Ihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyou-** " 

' _Why?_ '

" **Ihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyou-** " 

_ 'Why is Timothy—‘ _

" **Ihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyou-** "

_'—like this?'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ILYSM FOR READING! THANK U FOR COMMENTING AND LEAVING KUDOS! YA'LL KEEP ME GOING! 🥺🖤😤


	13. I feel like Atlas, I got my back stretched.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C’est la vie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own shiz! 
> 
> Song(s): Supernova - Ansel Elgort
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!!!

  
Tim could really use a drink right now. **(Not even a drink, maybe a dozen of them, or twenty).** He had this itch to just open up a bottle of Jack Daniels and drown in it. The older teen could vividly imagine it, the feel of the cool Gotham air as he drank alcohol on his apartment's rooftop while overlooking the city. The woodsy almost smooth taste of the whiskey would burn his throat when going down, and Tim would savor every fucking drop of it. Of course, Tim was underage, but he could always get alcohol the illegal way. Slipping a twenty-dollar bill when no one else was looking would do the trick. Gothamites were sleazy like that, making Tim _love it_ and _hate it_ at the same time.

Subsequently, his liver would commit suicide upon his overconsumption of the forbidden fruit. Considering, how it's been working overtime because of his spleen. 

Ah, yes, his spleen. 

The whole reason he was in this mess in the first place. 

Maybe, Tim should have kept his mouth shut after all? 

**Well shit.**

But somedays, Tim felt like **_Atlas_** himself, holding too much weight for his small shoulders. 

And so, when the urge to tell someone, _anyone,_ came along. He followed through with it. He told Damian, and look how that turned out. Things went tits up very quickly. **(Even quicker than Tim’s own self-destructive thoughts, and that was saying something).**

Perhaps, he really was the Robin that fell too far. 

**Perhaps.**

Damian was sniffling now. His body was shaking, similar to how one would react once being tased. 

Tim could only hope his meager attempt of comfort was enough. 

Slowly, the teen unwrapped his arms from Damian. 

"Let's go." He whispers, delicately rubbing the back of his brother's neck. 

"Okay." Damian croaks out. 

They walk into the pharmacy hand in hand. 

Tugging his brother along, Tim was on autopilot. 

He didn't want to hurt him. He never meant to. 

While waiting for his prescription, Tim murmurs into Damian’s ear. 

”I’m sorry.” And, this time he meant it. 

_I’msorryforbeingbrokenforbeingdamagedforbeingbornforbeingyourolderbrotheriloveyoupleasedonthurtmepleasedontleavemeplease—_

Laying his head onto Tim’s arm, Damian answers, 

”Me too.” 

_I’msorryfornotnoticingfornotbeingthereforbeingabadbrotherabadsiblingfornevertreatingyoufairlyiloveyouiloveyouiloveyoupromisemeyoullstaysweartome—_

”Please, don’t die on me.” 

_’I love you, so please—‘_

Closing his eyes, Tim swallows down his own thoughts. 

”I’ll try.” 

**The unspoken vow was clear:** _I’ll try to be better. **(For you, for us).**_

The void could be a bitch, and Tim didn't want to suffocate in it today. 

He seriously didn't. 

Taking his pills from one of the pharmacists, Tim leads Damian back to his car. 

The drive was filled with silence, but it was a comfortable one this time. 

Tim was finally able to relax. 

**They would be okay.**

**They had to be.**

And, when he opened the front door to see a battered Dick Grayson and one prone Jason Todd on his couch. 

He didn't even flinch. 

**_Such is the life, of one Timothy Jackson Drake, I guess._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everything! I read all of your comments, and it really motivates me in my writing! I love you guys! Kudos and comment if you want! I really appreciate it! 🥺🖤🖤🖤


	14. In My Defense...Actually There Is No Defense.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y’know you’re fucked if you end up at Denny’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own shit
> 
> P.S. Please don't drink and drive. It is unsafe and illegal. 
> 
> Song(s): Sweet Escape - Gwen Stefani

Okay first off, it wasn't Dick's fault. 

** No, seriously, it wasn't.  **

It's been a horrible couple of weeks, alright?

Both Jason and him were exhausted of lamenting about Tim, and so in a moment of clarity, they decided to hang around the dark streets of Gotham at night, in their civilian identities. 

In hindsight, they were idiots for thinking nothing bad would happen. 

**(They were in Gotham after all).**

The two eldest sons just came out of a 24 hour Denny's, drunk and out of their birdbrain minds. 

Dick was pulling Jason along, carrying him half-heartedly by a shoulder. 

"W-we really 'ucked up, Dicky." Jason slurs, lolling his head backwards to look at the full moon. 

Dick agrees with his younger brother for once. The man was tired of the constant pangs of guilt that had been plaguing him ever since Tim's outburst. 

Dick gently tucks Jay into the passenger seat of his car, pausing when he hears a distinct sound he knows all too well come from behind him. 

_ A click of a gun.  _

Breathing harshly through his nose, Dick has a sudden urge to facepalm. 

God seriously wanted him to duke it out with thugs in a Denny’s parking lot of all things? 

What a fucking joke. 

"Give me all your money, pretty boy—“

Dick punches the fucker right in the jaw before he could finish his sentence. 

The man yowls in pain from the hit as blood starts to pour down from his mouth. 

It looks like he accidentally bit his tongue. 

A sound of glass breaking brings Dick’s attention back to his vehicle. Some of the thug’s friends had smashed the passenger window in an attempt to steal his belongings. 

Dick rushes forward to tackle one of the men while Jason tries to batter the others away from him.

Jason was getting sluggish and Dick started to worry about how long this fight would last. 

They were never supposed to fight while in their civvies. 

This was going downhill fast. 

Knocking a man out with a pressure point to the neck, Dick turns to see Jason kick another thug out the car. 

Dick quickly comes to his senses and jumps into the driver's seat. 

He presses onto the gas hard and drives away from the fight scene, feeling queasy as an onset on tipsiness overwhelms him. 

He knew his drinks would come back to bite him in the ass eventually. 

Looking through the mirrors, he spots Jason's sorry state. The man took the brunt of the damage from the broken glass and from almost being forcefully dragged away from the car. 

Jason was a Robin though, through and through. And even when shit-faced out of their minds, a Robin knew how to defend themselves. 

Blinking his eyes groggily, Dick starts to panic when he notices the colors of the stoplights blending together. 

**Oh fuck** , **just how much did he drink?**

Swallowing down a scream, Dick rationalizes which part of the city he was in. 

He was near Tim's nest. 

Surely, his baby brother wouldn't mind if they stopped by just for a patching up? 

Making up his mind, Dick turns left into the street Tim's apartment was on, ignoring his evergrowing anxiety. 

Eventually, they make it to the base, and Dick has to fireman carry Jason to the apartment, stumbling every once in a while. 

He slips in through a window, noticing early on no one was home. Dick shoves Jason onto the leather couch, before scavenging a first aid kit from one of the cabinets under the sink. 

Placing it onto the living room table, Dick holds his face in between his hands and sags into them. 

The oldest brother lets out a groan. 

It was just his luck that the front door decides to open at that moment. 

Taking one glimpse at his brothers, Tim whispers a silent prayer to the One above for patience. 

" **Amen**." Tim murmurs quietly into the night. 

Gesturing to Damian, the little imp goes ahead and begins to aid Dick. 

The boy tsks all the while, clearly unhappy with this "surprise". 

Tim takes out another medical kit from a compartment under the sofa, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Dick. 

Disregarding the man's response, Tim cleans Jason's wounds delicately, frowning when he finds pieces of glass embedded in some cuts. 

Taking a pair of tweezers, he tells Jason to take his shirt off.

Tim continues to pluck glass from Jason's lacerations. In the end, he puts some antibiotic cream at the open cuts and wraps them. 

"S-so, 'hat's the verdict, doc?" Jason jokes, clearly still tipsy. 

Humming, whilst putting away his medkit, Tim answers, 

”You two have a severe case of dumbassery. **Congratulations**.” 

Sputtering in defense, Dick hurriedly explains themselves. 

”How is drunk fighting outside of a Walmart supposed to make me feel better?” 

”It wasn’t a Walmart! It was a Denny’s!” 

”And?” 

”Honestly, Grayson you're not helping your own case.” 

”S-shut yer mouth, demon brat.” 

”Tt. I don't want to hear that coming from you, Todd. You _maudlin sot_!” 

”Fuck you, Damian!” 

”Timothy, Todd is being a **bitch**!” 

" **AM NOT**!”

"Yes, you are—“

Dick swivels around in his chair, watching the verbal spar go down in alarm. 

“T-Tim...” Dick mumbles. 

Inhaling deeply at the chaos, Tim croaks out,

“Can all of you guys be quiet? Jesus, I’m getting a migraine!” 

Jason immediately clenches his jaw, glaring at the haughty look on Dami’s face. 

Grimacing at the silence, Tim mumblesdefeatedly, 

“The couch is a pullout mattress. Both of you guys can sleep on there tonight.” 

Whipping his head in astonishment, Dick utters, 

“You’re letting us stay?” 

“Well, you can’t go anywhere in your sorry state, can you?” 

"Touché." 

"Wait? How about Damian? Where will he rest!" 

The youngest Robin throws the two of them a smirk, before answering smugly 

"Unlike you buffoons, I have my own room." 

Jason growls at the kid, whispering something that sounded like “ _prick_ " underneath his breath. 

Rolling his eyes at the duo, Tim yawns into his hands. 

"I'm about to turn in for the night. If youguys need anything just ask Dames." 

The closing of Tim's bedroom door, as he leaves the three of them alone in the living room, acts like a trumpet for war. 

An all-out war. 

This would be a free for all battle. 

** A battle Damian had no _intention_ of losing.  **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ILYSM! THANK YOU FOR READING! Self-quarantine sucks, and it's leaving me uninspired ughhhh! Comment or kudos if you enjoyed! Love ya'll 🥺🖤


	15. Aw Shit, Here We Go Again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is stumped. 
> 
> (Spoilers for the movie Conjuring are in here btw).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own shiz, sadly 
> 
> Song(s): Sexyback - JT
> 
> I feel like this is the longest chapter I've ever made. Like. Damn. Kinda proud ngl. 
> 
> Also, is it alright with ya’ll if I make the Robins ethnic? I wanna give some love to backgrounds and etc! Please tell me in the comments.
> 
> Also minor question: But what is your fave ice cream flavor? I love like all of them. But green tea? Strawberry? Coffee? They slap!

Tim liked to believe that he was smart. I mean, c'mon! He had an IQ well over 140 and he was a Drake for fuck's sake! His intelligence and his adaptability were what brought him this far for a teenage hero. Yet, for the first time in his life, he was...stumped. 

He woke up early as always, still groggy and still half-asleep. Tim stumbled into the kitchen, not too alarmed to see Damian cook breakfast for him. Ever since that one time he made a cookie for Tim in an Easy Bake Oven, the little terror decided to take up a passion for it. 

Jason and Dick were awake, ogling their mugs of coffee like they were regretting all their life choices up to this point in time. 

’ _Same_.’ Tim’s mind responds, sympathizing with his hungover brothers. 

Damian immediately sets a cup of coffee in front of him, the liquid was black and coal colored, it was an edgelord’s Mona Lisa. 

Taking a sip, Tim gradually comes back to life. Damn, coffee really was the nectar of the gods. Hot bean juice or not, it was a great remedy for drowsiness. 

Unwinding his tense posture, Tim hums a tiny, 

”Thank you, Damian. **Love you**.” 

The hellion preens at his words in obvious pride, before turning to smirk directly at Jason and Dick. 

Not one to be one-upped, Dick scampers around the kitchen, presenting Tim with a plate of breakfast. 

“Thanks, Dick.” 

Dick physically deflates,before pouting at his now empty coffee mug. Beside him, Jason glares at the table with vengeance. 

_‘What did the poor table do to you? Was it Hitler in its past life or something?’_ Tim ponders.

Checking the time on his phone, Tim finishes the rest of his breakfast in a hurry. 

“Are you guys coming with us?” He asks, timidly. 

”Where to?”

”A small photography museum, it’s called Chloe’s Captures.” 

”Sure.” Jason pipes up, sending a grin towards Damian. 

The demon brat gifts the older male with his middle finger, to show his ”gratitude". 

Jason takes his thumb and makes a horizontal line against his throat, mouthing the words ”fuck off” in retort. 

Dick laughs at the duo in ill-hidden apprehension. 

”Great, just let me take a shower first. Then, we’ll leave.” Tim states, breaking everyone out of their stupor. 

Once Tim leaves, Damian takes no time to pounce on his brothers. 

”What do you two imbeciles think you're doing?” 

”Hanging out with Tim—“ 

“Don’t give me that excuse, Grayson. Cheap talk doesn’t suit you.” 

“Bullshit, Damian. How are we supposed to make it up to the kid, if you keep cock-blocking us?” 

”Protecting and evaluating are two different things-” 

”What are you? Tim’s chastity belt? Jesus, you're acting like we're out to get him, to hurt him.” 

”Would it be wrong to think so? Just you being in his presence right now is impacting Tim in more ways than one.”

”Give us a chance, little D! I swear if we mess up this outing of yours we’ll stop. Promise.” 

Damian clenches the bridge of his nose, mumbling a small, 

"I'll probably regret this later." under his breath. 

"Fine, do what you want. If you break your vow, I'll just have to kill you." 

"Deal?" 

"Deal." 

A few minutes later, Tim wanders back in, freshly showered and with a backpack in tow. 

All in all, the ride didn't take too long. It only took thirty minutes tops to get to the museum—plus an extra five to find parking space—but to Tim, it felt like an eternity. 

**(Even though he was the one driving).**

Sliding through the doors, the batboys peer around the exhibit. The museum was no less than incredible.

Multitudes of colors and silhouettes greeted them from where they stood. There were so many things to look at here. Birds? Reptiles? Shadows? Archaic architectures? They had it all. 

Tim leads the dumbfounded trio to a piece that was mounted on a farther wall, away from other art critics. 

The picture depicted Gotham City at sunset. The high view came from inside a belfry, confirmed by the fact that parts of the architecture were exposed in the photo.

The true premise of said creation was the scene it captured. From the camera's angle, you could see all of the major skyscrapers gleam from an onslaught of sun rays. While underneath the buildings, were, of course, the people. Gothamites were traveling about in this photo, either clocking out after a harsh day of work or clocking in to start their horrid shift. Behind the whole scene was the sky in all it’s glory. The sunset that occurred in the background made the work all the more appealing. 

The photo lived and breathed the true essence of this slum filled city. 

_**It lived and breathed Gotham.** _

"Wow." Dick compliments, gazing at the work in awe. 

Numbly, both Jason and Damian agree. 

The picture was absolutely gorgeous. 

"Where is this from?" Jason questions in pure puzzlement. 

"We've visited most towers during patrol, but I don't ever remember this particular belfry." 

"It does seem familiar though," Damian reveals, frowning at his spotty memory. 

“I’m glad to see you guys enjoy his work too!” A lady beams from beside them, causing everyone but Tim to jump up in surprise. 

Oddly, Tim has been silent during this whole debacle. What was he hiding?

The woman apologizes sheepishly, before continuing on, 

”My name’s Chloe Alvarez, I own this little gallery!" 

The batboys scramble to regain their composure, and politely introduce themselves. 

”Pleasure to meet you, gentlemen! Pardon my sudden intrusion, but I couldn't help but hear your earlier conversation. And I must say that I completely adore Jack’s work! I’m so happy that I’m not the only one to think so! He’s such an underrated photographer!” The woman gushes in high praise. 

The lady moves closer to Dick in excitement, causing Tim to tense up and move behind Damian. 

Damian notices, but doesn't comment. 

Was Tim uncomfortable here?

”Jack, was it? And how much do his works cost?” Jason inquires.

Tim blushes at the question, leaving Damian even more bewildered. 

Was Tim sick? Did he have a fever? 

”Sadly, I wouldn't know, Jack is an elusive character. No one knows what he looks like. He just turns in his product with a short description of what it is, along with his pen name. His works are always sent through the mail too. Everything about him is kept private.” 

”Man, this ’Jack’ person sure seems paranoid.” Dick mutters. 

Tim flushes even more at his brother’s words. 

Damian finally turns to him in concern. 

”Are you okay, Timothy?” 

”Completely fine!" The teen squeaks out in embarrassment. 

"If you say so," Damian replies, keeping an eye on Tim. 

Ms. Alvarez leads the group to another wall filled with more astounding works. 

”These were all photographed by Jack! Please take a look! Oh, and just call me over if you have any more questions!” The lady says before departing to follow another party of gallery walkers. 

”Jack is extremely talented. Look at this piece!” Dick exclaims brightly in glee. 

Damian agrees with his brother,

”Indeed, Grayson. Although, I must say the last work we saw is my favorite of his so far.” 

Tim smiles at Damian bashfully in return

Too afraid to look at them, Tim eyes the ground, before whispering,

” **Thank you**.” 

Damian was now not the only one lost in this discussion, as both Dick and Jason were bewildered by their brother’s vagueness. 

”Yo, what?” Jason speaks, twirling around to see if Dami and Dick knew what was going on. 

In all honesty, none of them knew what was happening. 

**Oh, cluelessness, thy names art Jason, Dick, and Damian.**

Biting his lip, Tim takes a peep at their perplexed expressions.

”F-for liking my works. T-thank you." 

Damian cocks his head, analyzing what Tim said. 

”Oh fuck.” The youngest verbalizes in pure astonishment. 

”What?” Dick continues to parrot out, still lost.

”Timothy Jackson Drake!” Damian grounds out vehemently. 

"Y-yes, that's me?" Tim stammers out, pointing at himself. 

"No, I meant—“Damian tries to explain, before cutting himself off to speak in a lower tone. 

“It all makes sense! The phantom photographer’s name is Jack and your middle is Jackson! It’s you—“ 

Damian pauses in his spiel to stare at Tim.

“—isn't it?” 

“It is, but was it really that hard to figure out?” Tim scratches the back of his neck, stupified. 

”I thought it was obvious, I led you guys here for a reason, I—“ 

“Wait, hold up!” Jason barks out. 

”You’re telling me, that Timbo over here is a renowned photographer?”

”Yes.” Damian states in a ”duh” tone. 

”What?” Dick echoes, his brain short-circuiting from this new information. 

”S-so, ice cream?” Tim feebly queries in an attempt to diffuse the situation. 

Closing his eyes, Damian takes in a deep breath before agreeing.

”Sure, but don't think I'll let you off this easy.” Damian warns while taking Tim away from the gallery. 

Damian swings their conjoined hands back and forth, as he babbles about his brother's photography skills. 

Jason shakes his head, still in shock. 

”C’mon, Dickie-bird. We don't want to be left behind.”

Jason grabs his older brother by the shoulders, leading them out of the gallery to follow the slowly vanishing forms of their younger brothers.

”Tim is Jack! He’s a professional photographer? Oh my God? W-what?" Dick cries in hysteria. 

“Me too, bro. Me, fucking too.” Jason retorts, exhaling in relief when they eventually catch up with Tim and Damian. 

”Can I have one scoop of Greg’s Green Tea and one scoop of Susan’s Strawberry? Yes, in a cup, please. Also, can I have two scoops of Raymond’s Rocky Road? On a cone, please. Yes, on a charcoal cone.” 

“Anything else, sirs?”

”Get me a scoop of Derek’s Dulce de Leche on a waffle cone?” Jason asks the cashier. 

”Right on it, sir! What about you?” The cashier looks at Dick. 

Dick raises his head, before ordering,

”Oh! One scoop of Craig’s Cookies and Cream! On a waffle cone too, please.” 

”You got it!” The cashier exclaims, billing Tim, who pays for the order. 

The quartet waits by the entrance, an awkward silence permeating the air. 

”Remember, the photo you saw? The one of the sunset? That was my last one.” 

”Last one?”

”Yeah, the last photograph I ever took professionally. I stopped doing it after becoming Robin.” 

_’After my camera broke.’_

"But you got a new camera for Christmas right? Will you start taking photos again?” Dick rambles. 

”Truthfully, I don't know. Maybe?" 

Damian grabs the cuffs of Tim's sleeves, 

"But I like your photos, brother! It'd be a waste to not utilize such talent!" 

Tim gives a disarming grin at Damian's compliment, rubbing his chin against the younger's hair before kissing the side of his head. 

"Thanks, lil bro." 

Damian reddens at the sign of affection and hides his face in Tim’s sweater. 

”N-No problem, Timothy.”

”Drake? Order for Mr. Drake?” 

With a bit of effort, Tim gets Damian to let go of him as he retreats to get the ice cream. 

”Where to next?” He asks, taking a small bite of his ice cream. 

”I want new sweaters!" Dick chirps, looking around the department stores. 

”I want new pants.” Damian adds on with a nod. 

”And I need new leather boots.” Jason states with a feral smirk marking his face. 

Stifling a laugh, Tim agrees with their requests. 

_’I kinda forgot how fun it was to be with them.’_

The department store was empty when Tim and the others arrived. 

It was so empty that the workers there immediately perked up when they saw them. 

_’What the hell happened here?’_

Tim promptly asks what was on everyone’s minds, but in more polite terms. 

”Ugh. A new shop opened up next to us, so now no one wants to come here.” 

”Well then, more for us I suppose.” Jason states, shrugging his shoulders. 

”Please, don't buy the entire store, Jason.”

”No promises, Timmers.” 

The worker giggles at the duo, thinking they were joking. But Tim was dead serious. Jason would buy out the entire store just because. 

Jason walks around the store ogling dramatically at each pair of boots he finds. Dick does the same, he dances along with the store’s music, waltzing around while looking at the tags for sweaters. Damian stays beside Tim, trying on multiple pants, constantly changing and saying, 

”Do these look good, Tim?” 

To Tim, all of the jeans suited Damian, but alas, the little brat was picky. He could never settle for ”It looks alright.” 

”Alright, Timothy? Just, ’alright’? Tt.” 

Tim could never understand fashion. If it fit and felt comfy then wasn't that enough? **Form follows function after all.**

Rolling his eyes, Tim sits down at a stationed seat, probably designed for husbands who had to wait for hours for their wives to finish. 

He throws away his empty ice cream cup to a nearby trash bin and takes out his phone. This would take a while he could tell. 

_Contact: Old Man_

_Read : 4:17 P.M._

_Tim: Doc, how do you know if you have a concussion?_

_Old Man: What? Nausea, headaches, etc. Red, are you alright?_

_Tim: It's just my brothers are being nice to me and it feels surreal. You sure I don't have brain damage, old man?_

_Old Man: I’m sure and don't call me old, Jesus. I’m still young!_

_Tim: Whatever you say..._

_Old Man: Little shit._

Tim chuckles at his phone before shoving it into his pocket when he spots Dick coming towards him. 

”Timmy, look at this!” 

In his hands was a red hoodie with golden designs on it. The designs were of golden serpents circulating down the sleeves. 

”There’s a blue one too! Should I buy it, so that we can match?” 

Tim was about to say, ”Okay.” when suddenly Jay rolls into the scene. 

”Hell no, who the fuck wants to match with you!”

Dick gasps at his brother, taking full offense. 

”Check these out, Timbo! Feast your eyes on these badass boots!”

Jason held up a pair of men’s leather boots, it had everything a TikTok eboy wanted. Chains, locks, with metal inlay on the laces, it really was a dream come true. 

”They have another pair your size! 9.5 right? C’mon match with me! It’ll be fun, we’ll be a better dynamic duo than pops and that little brat! Red and Red fighting crime!” 

Tim was surprisingly about to agree, as one, the boots did look really cool, and two, because he was already worn out from this conversation. 

” **Denied. Refused. Overruled**.” Damian states from behind Tim, gunning down both of his brother's attempts to bond with Tim. 

"Tim, feel this," Damian demands, gesturing towards the dress pants he was wearing. 

Scrunching his brows, Tim does what he's told and runs his hand along the side of the pants. 

"Okay...woah what the fuck why is this so soft? Expensive-looking and comfortable what a find." He murmurs, mystified. 

”Good, let’s buy matching ones for the next gala.” 

"Aha, yeah no! That's not happening, Damian.” Jason growls out, his eyes twitching in anger. 

”How about we let Timmy decide then, yeah?” Dick compromises, giving a pleading glance towards Tim. 

”Fine.” 

”Alright.”

The trio stares Tim down awaiting his answer. To them, this was life or death. 

”Uhm. All of the above?” 

”WHAT—“ 

“Tt! Absolutely fucking not—“

“Timmy, why—“ 

In the end, Tim’s words were law, and so he got matching pairs with everyone. _How tragic._

**(Tragic for the others, yes, but for Tim, he was actually touched. Made him feel...dare he say it? Loved).**

The ride back to his nest was filled with petty fights and debates.

”Who the fuck likes blue over red?” 

”No one, green is the superior color.” 

”Ew, green. That’s disgusting.” 

”Timmy, I bet your favorite color is red like mine! **Bet**!”

”Reds and violets are my favorite colors, yeah.” He discloses,  defeatedly.

”AHA! Suck it losers!” 

The quartet makes it to the apartment safely, despite all the fights happening during the drive. 

”So, what now?” Dick questions, sitting down on the couch. 

”Damian and I usually watch some movies until it’s time to sleep. You guys wanna join in?” 

”What movie?” Jason queries, sitting on the other side of the couch. 

Tim picks up a DVD from his stack and shows it to the others. 

Dick’s face loses its complexion as Jason sputters into the air. Damian stares at the two in chagrin. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“W-we’re watching _The Conjuring_?” Dick wails, hiding his face. 

Tim huffs in amusement, “Yup.” 

“Do you at least have blankets, Tim?” 

“Sure, let me go get them.” Tim puts in the disc and grabs blankets from his storage room. 

”Is it actually that frightening?” Damian quips.

”You have no idea.” Jay responds, knowing he’d end up concealing his face with the blanket more than half the duration of the movie. 

”Who knew Timmy was into this stuff.” Dick mumbles, stunned. 

Tim comes back with the blankets, covering all of them with it at once. Dick was to the far left of the couch with Damian right next to him, Tim was in between both Damian and Jason, with Jason being in the far right. 

**The movie starts.**

“1971?” Damian whispers while earnestly following the storyline. 

”Even the dog is scared of the place, so why are they even living there?” 

”It’s part of the mystery, Dames!” 

“Mystery? More like bullshittery.” Jason mutters, cuddling with the blankets. 

At this point, Jay would become one with the quilts. No longer would he be known as Red Hood, but Red Quilt. 

**(The movie shows a scene where the clocks stop at exactly 3:07 A.M.).**

“What’s with horror movies and 3 A.M.? I don’t get it?” Dickie grimaces. 

“It’s because 3 A.M. is the Witching Hour or the Devil’s Hour,” Tim grumbles, engrossed with the movie. 

“Should we be worried that you know this as if it’s common knowledge—scratch that—how do you know this?” 

Shrugging off the inquires, Tim answers, 

”I get bored.” 

”If the dog dies, I’m _suing_.” 

”Shhhhh, it's getting good, Dami!” 

**(Paranormal investigators come to help in this scene, but are unable to do much unless the Vatican approves).**

”The Catholic Church? The Vatican needs to petition for exorcisms? Seriously?” 

”Well I mean, do you want to be known as the priest who accidentally exorcised someone who wasn't even possessed in the first place?” 

”Fuck, you got me _there_.” 

**(One of the characters gets attacked by a spirit, who spits blood into their mouth).**

”WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” 

”OH MY GOD A DEMON—“ 

“KILL IT WITH FIRE—“ 

“WHAT THE HELL, TIM! YOU LIKE THIS SHIT?” 

**(The character who was attacked ends up possessed. An emergency exorcism is made).**

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck!” 

“HELL NO!” 

“EW, WHAT IS IT DOING!” 

“MOVE BITCH, YOU’LL GET STABBED!” 

“SHIT, YOU’RE A DEAD BITCH THAT’S WHAT YOU ARE.” 

**(The movie ends with a music box playing eerie music).**

”I think I just died for the second time.” 

”Same here.” Damian concedes, turning to check on Tim. 

”I know, especially during that one moment—“ 

“Sh! He’s sleeping.” Damian warns, tucking his brother in. 

”Ah shit. How’d he manage to fall asleep through that?” 

”Beats me, Jaybird. Beats me.” 

Tim awakens the next day feeling warm and fuzzy. He looks down to spot Damian on his lap, dead asleep. 

Jason is to the right of him, using his shoulder as a headrest while Dick had entangled their legs together. 

Tim was left stumped at the sight. He had an almost genius intellect, yet couldn’t even grasp simple brotherly affection.  Why were they sleeping next to him? They could have left him on the couch and slept in the other rooms. 

Most importantly, _why did they even stay?_

Tim felt bamboozled while observing his brothers. 

” **What just happened**?” He whispers aloud to himself.

_How high was his IQ again?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK U SM FOR READING. THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE UGH! BUT I LOVED IT! I APPLAUD TRUE AUTHORS WHO DO THIS FOR A LIVING! THE PATIENCE! Lmao, Anyways ILY GUYS LIKE ALWAYS! Tell me if you liked it down below! Kudos of comment if you want to! Thank you for enjoying my writing skills, it inspires me to keep writing! Much love, NOCTIS_13 OUT! 
> 
> Also, is it alright with ya’ll if I make the Robins ethnic? I wanna give some love to backgrounds and etc! Please tell me in the comments.
> 
> Also minor question: But what is your fave ice cream flavor? I love like all of them. But green tea? Strawberry? Coffee? They slap!


	16. Who Killed Cock Robin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is suffering and it's all Damian's fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO THIS CHAPTER WOULD NOT WORK WITH ME AT ALL! ITS SO BAD IM SO SORRY! THIS CHAPTER IS JUST THE BEGINNING OF THIS WHOLE SHEBANG! (reasons why it’s short) This entire arc?? Will take maybe 3-4 chapters to go through! SORRY IF THIS FEELS RUSHED, NOTHING WOULD WORK OUT EHEJDJ  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own shiz  
> Song(s) I listened to: Summertime Sadness Alice Kristiansen Cover

Tim had to admit that maybe he was a dumbass. He was smart, true, but he was still a dumbass. A **”low self-esteem-coffee addict- fucker”,** as Jason would dub him. Perhaps, Jason was correct. Tim did have non- existent self-preservation skills. He didn't ever think of his own life as something to be cherished nor did he ever hide his love for coffee. **Mm, warm bean juice, delicious.**

Anyways, going back to the point, Tim had no self-preservation skills period. Over Damian or him, he’d always choose Damian. There would be no other option. No other way. 

To him, his life was expendable, his brothers lives, on the other hand, were not and would never be. 

It happened in the wee hours of the morning, another break out in Gotham. 

Bruce was with the Joker, Dick with Poison Ivy, and Jason with Clayface. Last he heard, Stephanie and Cass were banding together against the Riddler. Oracle was, of course, overlooking everything. 

That only left Damian and him with Scarecrow. 

They found him inside an old drug facility that Bruce busted some time ago. The man was alone, muttering to himself. 

Damian and him scoped out the area from the beams above. They made a quick plan while watching from the sidelines and with a shake of a head, Tim dropped down next to Scarecrow. 

The rest of the ordeal was nothing short of chaotic. 

"Crane." Tim acknowledges, staring at the grotesque man in front of him. 

"Ah, the trapped Robin. Nice to see you again." Jonathon Crane greets, clenching the sickle with his hands. 

The two circle each other as if they were locked in an elaborate dance.

"Trapped? Whatever do you mean?" Tim quips, watching Scarecrow's every move.

"Hmmm, well you're the Robin who's locked in a hard place, aren't you? The Robin who's wings are broken and crooked beyond repair. The trapped Robin.”

Tim grits his teeth, ignoring Crane’s words, the man used to be a psychologist, he was obviously trying to mess with him. 

Unfortunately for Crane, Tim never liked going to the shrink. 

”Poor little birdie! Abandoned by his flock! They left you to die all alone, I wonder why? Is it because they finally realized how broken you are? How disgusting you are?” The villain continues with a sneer on his face. 

Damian creeps up behind the man, ready to attack simultaneously with Tim.

“They already know.” Tim responds, catching Crane off guard.

“What?” 

”They already know, Crane. The family already knows how **ugly** I am.” Tim admits, using a bit of reverse psychology in return. 

Scarecrow pauses for a second, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to decipher Tim’s message. 

That pause was all Damian needed to start his attack. 

Damian comes in swinging his katanas at the villain’s defenseless back. 

_’Didn't Bruce ban his katanas? Did this brat steal it back?’_ Tim’s mind ponders, as he attacks with his bo staff. 

Crane roars in anger at being played and starts to fight back in vigor, throwing taunts all the while. 

The man easily sidesteps their attacks, playfully yawning at the duo. 

As much as Tim prides himself at being good at hand to hand combat, Damian and him were still not at the level of fighting fluidly together. It seems like Crane caught on to that. This was bad. 

” ** _Hey, do you know who killed Cock Robin?_** ” He screeches, bypassing one of Tim’s attempts to swing at his knee. 

”Who?” Tim questions, glaring at the man behind his mask. 

” **Me**.” Crane states, his voice turning dark. 

Tim tenses up, something was wrong, he could sense it. 

He glances around the room and for a split second, spots something behind the man. 

There was a panel behind Damian with four holes spanning the sides. It was glimmering oddly in the light. 

Tim freezes in comprehension. 

”This ends now, Crane!”The imp yells out in early triumph.

” **ROBIN, WAIT-** ” 

A pressure plate was stepped on. 

From the panel, four darts start to fly towards the kid. Two of the four darts would get caught in the boy’s Kevlar, protecting him from the Fear Toxin. 

The other two, however, were going straight to Robin's neck. There was no doubt they would hit him where he was unprotected. 

Tim makes a decision. 

Red Robin ignores Scarecrow and rushes by him. He tackles Damian to the floor, protecting his body with his own. 

Three darts miss, embedding themselves in nearby crates and walls. 

One doesn't. 

One hits Tim on the inner side of his bicep, a small section where his Kevlar didn't shield. 

”R-Red? WHAT ARE YOU DOING I HAD THAT!” Damian rages, not understanding the sudden change in behavior. 

Tim grins at the youth before whispering, 

”F-Fear Toxin...” 

Damian stares at his brother, only then noticing the thick dart sticking out of him. 

”R-red?” 

Tim feels his insides burn while his eyes water. This was different, new.

_’This toxin, could it be?’_

Tim faints on top of Damian, not even getting the opportunity to warn him. 

Robin stills in shock. 

Crane takes this moment to attempt at escaping. He makes a mad dash for the exit. 

“Where do you think you’re going.” Robin demands, throwing a Birdarang that self-destructs at Scarecrow’s feet, sending the villain to the floor. 

Robin attacks the man while he is down, all semblance of calm gone. 

All Damian could think about, was his brother’s form crumbling like a piece of wet paper. 

The boy was livid. 

He would make Crane pay. 

He beats the man until he’s black and blue, dismissing his katanas wholeheartedly. 

Damian wanted to feel Crane’s bones snap beneath his own fists, this was personal.

Robin slams the man’s head on to the concrete floor, the villain was scarcely breathing when he was finished with him. 

The boy ties Scarecrow up and rushes to Tim. 

Tim was burning up and breathing rapidly. His skin was flushed and his face was clenched in pain. 

Damian gave him the antidote earlier, but it seemed like his symptoms were getting worse? How? 

Tim had a spleen now, didn't he? 

Dami  begins to panic and contacts Oracle, quickly telling her the situation. 

"C-confused aren't ya birdie?” Crane rasps out between labored breaths. 

”What did you do to him?" Robin snarls, holding Tim in his arms. 

Crane laughs at the demon spawn, coughing up blood a few times while doing so. 

”D-Do you like it? It’s a new toxin I made and it looks like Little Red will be my Patient Zero.” 

Scarecrow blackouts soon after. 

Damian stays there in silence, unmoving. 

Damian doesn't move when Bruce swoops in and carries Tim into the Batmobile.

Damian doesn't move when they shift Tim into a bed in the medical bay. 

Damian doesn't move when Dick carries him into his room and tucks him into bed. 

Damian doesn’t move at all. 

He can't. 

He was aware he was in shock, but the boy couldn't bring himself to care at all. 

Inside his head, a nursery kept repeating non-stop. It was a nursery rhyme Damian learned when searching around Tim’s bookshelf.

_**Who killed Cock Robin?** _

**_I, said the sparrow, with my bow and arrow._ **

" ** _I killed Cock Robin_**." Damian whimpers, tears falling down his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S BEEN SO LONG! I’M SO SORRY I’VE BEEN BUSY! QUARANTINE SUCKS! ily guys sm! And thank u for reading and enjoying my works! UWU 🥺🖤 please kudos and comment if you want! Ily!


	17. Running Through My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim knows this is a dream, but it still hurts. It still hurts to have all his problems put on display.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN SO LONG! I'M SO SORRY! I'VE BEEN WORKING ON GRADUATING AND LIKE WJWJEJS MY BAD?? Disclaimer: I don't own DC, I wish tho :(
> 
> Song(s): All The Things She Said - Abbey Glover Cover

Tim woke up feeling **wrong**. He knew for a fact he fainted on top of Damian, yet here he was, sitting down in a random coffee shop. 

He wasn't wearing his uniform, causing a warning bell to go off in the back of his head. Glancing at the environment around him, the blue-eyed teen knew for a fact he was in Gotham. The entire outlook of the place remained the same, but the people...they weren't familiar to him. Everyone seemed lighter, happier. A sense of peace was in the air, which was unusual to have in a dark decrepit place like this. 

Tim felt thrown off, as if he was launched off a cliff and into a ravine below. His body told him that this was home, that this place, whatever this Gotham parody was, is where he belongs. However, his mind kept buzzing the same word over and over again: ~~_**wrongwrongwrongwrong**_~~. 

Tim stares down at the table in front of him, his stomach flipping when he spots ahot cup of black coffee and a crossiant sitting on top of it. This was his regular order for breakfast.

_'This dream sure is accurate.'_ Tim muses, taking a sip of the coffee before him. 

Even the taste of it was familiar.

** How revolting.  **

The teen takes another sip, before throwing down some cash on the table.He gave them forty dollars, which was more than enough to pay for the bill, he presumed. 

He checks his pockets when he steps out the café, noticing a pair of keys tucked away inside. Tim pulls them out, immediately recognizing his own keys to his car and his apartment complex. 

Surveying around the parking lot, Tim finds his car and drives back to his nest. 

He had to find answers and for that heneeded to do some research. 

His apartment was eerily the same as he left it when he went out to fight against Scarecrow, the clothes he left on the couch, the half-eaten dinner on the kitchen counter, all of it was still there. 

Nothing seemed to have changed, this unnerved him. It was like time had stopped and had only begun to move once he arrived. 

Tim knew Crane did something to him. He implanted a new type of fear venom in him, so this must have been some type of hallucinogenic dream. Yet, why isn't he screaming by now? Where was the terror? Where was his greatest fear? Why did this seem _too_ normal? 

Did the new drug not work? What is itstill being developed? Tim wracked his brain for answers, but he came up short. He didn't know. There were too many variables to assume, too many factors he had no idea existed, too many ways this could go wrong.

For once in his life, Tim was truly **lost**. 

He opened up his laptop, typing in keywords, such as, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, and the Justice League. 

Bruce Wayne popped up easily, several articles about his company and his own late night endeavors with a string of lovers,were strewn about the search engine. There was no surprise there for Tim. Shrugging his shoulders, the teen moved on to search for other things. 

** He came out empty-handed.  **

The Justice League didn't exist, heroes didn't exist, and Tim Drake? 

** He didn't exist either.  **

Refusing the urge to bite his nails in anxiety, Tim once again searched for Bruce Wayne. He clicked onto pictures of the man in galas, looking up for any sort of family photos he took. 

He found one that was taken recently from a social event Bruce went to, the man was smiling with four boys and three girls surrounding him. He could make out, Dick, Barbara, Cass, Stephanie, Jason, and Damian. They all seemed happy, relaxed even. 

The only person he didn't recognize was a teen who stood in between Jason and Damian. The teen had his arm around Dami's shoulders while Jason ruffled the stranger's hair with one of his hands. The teen had auburn locks and deep blue eyes.  


Tim felt his hands begin to shake. 

** Oh.  **

_ Oh.  _

_** Oh....he understood it now.  ** _

_** His greatest fear was here all along.  ** _

_Dr. Manazarc was patching him up after another solo mission gone wrong. His wounds weren't terrible, but he'd definitely need a couple of stitches._

_"Hey, Red?"_

_"Hm?" Tim hums, watching as his doctor skillfully begins to input stitches on his side._

_"What is your biggest fear?" The old man—ahem—the relatively young man questions._

_Tim ponders for a moment, biting his bottom lip in thought._

_"I guess...not being needed." Tim admits._

_The doctor pauses for a second in his stitching,_

_"Being unneeded?"_

_"Being unnecessary." The teen clarifies with a head shake._

_Dr. Manazarc raises his eyebrows in incomprehension,_

_"Do you mind running that back through me again, Red?"_

_Tim huffs in amusement,_

_"Well think about this way, what if you wake up one day in a world where doctors weren't needed anymore? What would you do now? Your job is gone. So; what else do you have? Your purpose, your reasoning to even be, has been erased. Isn't that horrifying to you?"_

_Dr. Manazarc doesn't respond, instead he stares at Tim with an unreadable look in his eyes._

_The man flicks the teen on the forehead, causing Tim to jolt in surprise._

_"Ouch! What—“_

_“Stop being so damn philosophical you brat! Jesus, it’s annoying.”_

_‘Sad is what it is. Not annoying but sad.’ The doctor thinks, gazing at Tim silently as said teen rubs his forehead with a pout on his lips._

Tim ruffles his hair in frustration after he slams his laptop shut. The teen feels a scream tear out his throat while hot tears slip down his cheeks. 

**_Tim was such a fool._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH I'M SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER! EITHER WAY ILY AND THANK U FOR READING! I'LL TRY TO UPDATE MORE AFTER I FINALLY GRADUATE THIS WEEK I LOVE YA'LL UWU! 🥺🖤🖤


	18. In the Presence of My Savior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim wonders if his coping habits are healthy. Then again, in this hallucination there was no one to tell him "no".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own shiz!
> 
> Sorry, I've been busy juggling other stories, but don't worry! I'll never abandon this work. 
> 
> Song I vibed to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQKneQaM-KI

Tim knew this was bad for his mental health. Stalking the Wayne family, even though he understood that this was nothing more than a hallucination.

If Jason was here, the real Jason, Timothy knew he'd be called a masochist. But; it's not like the real Jason was here right now anyways.

The male sighs into the palm of his hands, setting down the phone that he used to hack into the cameras of the Wayne Manor. He wasn’t spying per se, the blue-eyed teen just wanted to make sure he didn't leave any stones unturned.

After all, what if they knew the way out of here or something? That idea was unlikely, considering the fact that Tim needed to be administered with the cure first, in order to snap out of this **_nightmare_**. But; he was impatient and desired to get out quickly.

**Besides that, he was curious.**

Curious about who that auburn-haired individual was and how he replaced him so seamlessly in this reality.

More importantly, Tim needed to know how much _better_ this guy was than him.

The ravenette peers around his apartment in silence, hating how alone he felt without having Damian live with him.

Tim gets up to make himself another pot of black coffee. He would need more of that obsidian juice today, the boy could already tell.

Biting his nails in pure anxiety, Red waits for the coffee to finish.

What would he do? Stay? For how long?

Because; sure Tim could play the role of being nonchalant about this new development, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he _broke_.

And so; the young hero went back to his original way of coping: **_ignoring the problem until it went away._**

Ah yes, _denial_ at its finest. Tim’s favorite hobby.

Gulping down the pitch-black liquid like it was water, the boy decides to go the supermarket to stack up on food.

His plan was to camp out in his apartment until he was awoken back into reality.

Tim just had to play the waiting game, which he was a master of.

_Right?_

Tim didn't plan on getting _shot_ today, but really he shouldn’t have expected anything less of Crane’s new hallucinogenic drug.

He was supposed to be in and out of the grocery store, it was a simple supply run after all. But; of course, things could never go his way.

The male was five minutes into his endeavor of choosing what ramen to buy when the sound of a gun clicking caught his attention.

Tim hides behind a rack and secretly glances at where the noise came from.

Relaxing, when he realizes it’s just a usual street thug trying to steal money from the cash register.

The hero was about to continue perusing the aisles sneakily, but a flash of raven black hair makes him pause.

It was Damian.

Damian was being held by gunpoint by another thug. From the looks of it they were a probably a duo.

Tim proceeds to wait from his spot, watching as the street urchin talks about taking the Wayne heir as a hostage.

Damian was shaking in the man's arms, looking ready to collaspe at any moment. 

He frowns at the sight, Damian sure was acting for far too long. It's not like he had anything to be scared of.

The little imp was Robin after all, so he could beat these two up in a pinch. **(If Tim intervened a menial task, such as this one, the little hellion would never let it go).**

_"..."_

_Wait no_ , hisDamian was Robin. This kid, who had Damian's face, was a civilian. A civilian, who was in no shape or form, his younger, crime-fighting brother. 

" **Oh shit**." Tim mumbles under his breath, mortified.

_'Here we go again.'_

Tim lunges at the man that was holding this dream's Damian at gunpoint. He high kicks the pistol out of his hands, before sucker-punching the goon in the face. The thug falls down fast.

He twirls around to tell Dami to run, but stills when a sound of another gun clicking comes from behind him.

It was the other robber, the teen guesses the man wasn't too happy to see his friend get beat up by a random.

"Walk away from this fight kid." The man growls out in hostility. 

Tim quirks out an eyebrow, before answering,

"How about, _ **no?**_ "

Red Robin roundhouse kicks the man in the face, causing the thug to stagger into a counter. Using that as a distraction, the teen clutches one of Dami’s hands and drags him to the exit.

He doesn't notice getting shot until he hears Damian scream.

The only good part of this whole disaster was that the bullet went straight through his side, missing his important organs.

He pushes Damian through the exit doors and falls forward to play dead.

The man who shot him passes by his body in a hurry to leave and catch Dami, but Tim didn't let him.

The male springs to his feet in a surprise attack and grabs a metal pole that came from a broken aisle rack.

Red uses it as a substitute bo staff and hits the back of the man's knees with it, making him stumble down. Then, with a twirl of the rod, he cracks it on the back of the thug's neck, knocking him out for good.

The teen exhales slowly afterwards as lets his body fall again from blood loss.

The last thing the hero remembers before going dark were the echoes of police sirens coming his way.

_It looks like Tim would always protect Damian, real or not._

Because; even when replaced he still wasn't able to shake off his big brother tendencies.

**_And; wasn't that hilarious?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Ya'll!!!! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading this chapter! Kudos or comment if you'd like! I love you all and thank you for sticking by this fic uwu!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I love you!!! 🖤🖤


End file.
